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Banner by dazedrose
Title: The Prized Vessel (Chapter 3)
Author: angel_kink
Pairing: Dean/Cas/Leviathan
Rating: R
Word Count: 2700
Warning: Moderate descriptions of sex, Leviathan/Dean, aaaaaaaangst
Summary: The remnants of Castiel's personality haunt the Leviathan. Dean decides to use it to his advantage the best he can.
A/N: I might write these sex scenes a little more fleshed out if there is a demand for it. I really wanted to focus on the story for this chapter though. I KNOW I KNOW MORE SMUT PLZ etc, but ya know, if I didn’t get the story out this chapter would never get posted.
MASTERPOST
Day 2
Dean got to spend several hours with his brother before he got whisked away again by the Leviathan. Sam seemed like he had control of himself during their brief time together, but Dean knew better. He knew all too well that Hell had a habit of creeping into your dreams, messing with you in the middle of the day when you least expect it, haunting your thoughts at every turn. All it takes is the smell of something burning or the sound of metal scraping on metal and it all came flooding back. But Sam seemed ok, so Dean left Bobby’s house willingly with the Leviathan hoping that any sudden resurgence of memories could be handled by Bobby in Dean’s absence.
This time the Leviathan fucked him in the captain’s quarters of an abandoned ship drifting aimlessly in the ocean. It was apparently the Mary Celeste, or so the Leviathan had told him. Dean had a passing familiarity with the legend, a cursed ghost ship of some sort, but it was low on his list of concerns at the time. What were more concerning were the frantic mood swings and constantly fluctuating personalities of the creature so intent on taking him as a lover. The beast seemed to want to remain attached to his brutal and vicious ‘self,’ but when they began to kiss and feel each other and tumble down the path towards sex his personality would shift and change into Castiel, or at least what Dean imagined Castiel would be like in this situation. Unfortunately his assumptions would never have a chance to be confirmed so he could only assume that the calmer and more caring side was his friend’s influence.
Their violent trysts would give way to what Dean could only describe as ‘love making’ and though he knew that made it sound like some cheap dime novel it was remarkable accurate. The creature would hold him close, rock in and out of him at a tender rhythm, and kiss him tenderly and lovingly as though he meant the world to him. Was this how Castiel would have been in bed? Dean cursed himself for never pushing that boundary. And if in the middle of their activities Dean momentarily forgot that this wasn’t Castiel, who could really blame him. He had to take his pleasure where he could. His days were numbered… again.
So Dean made a resolution to himself that night that’d he’d enjoy their little affair… inwardly at least. To the world he’d appear sickened by it and the details of exactly what the Leviathan demanded of him would be a closely guarded secret, but to himself he just imagined that it was an affair with Castiel. Because when they were in bed together that is exactly what it felt like. And yeah, it was wrong. Incredibly wrong. But it was all he could do to survive it.
Days 3-6
They fucked in a hut on some Indonesian island, on an isolated beach along Florida’s gulf coast, and on a remote atoll in the south Pacific. Each act was much the same as the one before it, only each time the Leviathan lingered in Cas’ caring personality for just a few minutes longer. He was loving and tender and caring for just a little bit more time. The wall between the two personalities was getting harder to detect and Dean was actually beginning to feel like his friend had been resurrected from the dead.
Even in the moments before and after their sexual encounters were becoming more dominated by the Castiel personality. When Dean made some passing reference to making a coconut radio like on Gilligan’s Island the beast actually cocked his head just like Castiel did. And again, Dean found himself forgetting that this wasn’t his friend. This was the thing that killed his friend. And when he was reminded of such, he felt guilty and sick and awful, but again, he had to survive somehow. He had to get through it. He had to do it for Castiel and for Sam.
Day 7
They were curled up together in an abandoned shack on one of the remote Maldives when Dean pushed the topic again. The past week had been progressing towards, well, something resembling an intimate relationship and even though the thought of using the ‘r-word’ in regards to a monster that killed his best friend made his stomach churn, he couldn’t deny that there was something there. Dean had no doubt now that it was the remnants of Castiel’s personality that were causing this to form, but he was going to use it to his advantage and learn more about the treacherous deal he’d brokered with the monster. As slight as the advantage was, it was something and he had to use it even if for nothing else than satisfying his own curiosity.
“So… you’ve taken a human vessel before…”
“Dean, I told you that was none of your business.”
“And I don’t give a fuck what you say. I deserve to…” When the Leviathan narrowed his eyes at him, Dean decided to take a different tactic. “I want to know how this works. You’re gonna take me next. I just…I want to know. Please.” Dean gave ‘the look’ that tended to make women (and a few men) throw their hands in the air and give Dean whatever he wanted. ‘Puppy dog eyes’ Lisa had called it. And for a moment it looked like it’d work on the Leviathan, but when the creature shoved away from him and sat up on the edge of the bed Dean worried that he may have pushed the remnants of Castiel beyond his reach and lost his chance to learn about what was about to happen to him.
“What difference does it make? I’m taking you either way. What’s it matter?”
Dean sat up and scooted next to the Leviathan at the edge of the bed. He cupped the creatures face and ran his thumb along his cheek, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I just… I want to know, ok? I’m just curious. Please.”
The Leviathan hesitated, but Dean could tell he was still in his ‘Castiel’ state of mind by the way he was looking at him, so he felt confident that he’d win this little battle. He just had to treat the topic as delicately as possible, remain close to the creature, and keep the situation intimate. As long as the Leviathan didn’t slip back into his own vicious state of mind, he’d get the answers he wanted. Castiel could never deny him. And as guilty as Dean felt about that, he knew he had to take advantage of that fact in this situation. He just had to.
The creature sighed. “Fine. Yes, Dean, I’ve taken human vessels before. Twice. But neither of them… neither of them were like this. I could sift through their memories, feel their emotions, act like them when I needed to. But an angel vessel, an angel vessel that had been occupied by an angel is completely different. I thought angels weren’t supposed to feel. But this emotion is the most intense residual effects I’ve ever experienced. I don’t… I don’t like it.”
Dean kept his hand on the creature’s cheek for a moment before sliding it down his neck, his arm, and then taking his hand into his own. He planted a soft kiss to the creatures knuckles and let his eyes flutter shut. And again, he felt like he was kissing Castiel’s knuckles. It was the intimacy he never had and never would. But it was close. Close enough.
“Castiel really fucking loved me didn’t he?”
“Incomprehensibly so. The last human vessel I occupied, he was a human man with a wife and twelve children. He lived in Galilee and his love for his wife, his land, and his lineage was strong, but it was nothing like this. I passed as him for six years until his wife grew suspicious. The tribe banished me from the vessel and sent me back to Purgatory. I was there for almost fifteen hundred years this time.”
“Why… why do you do it? Take human vessels, I mean.”
The creature laughed again, but it wasn’t the maniacal laugh that Dean had expected from the creature. It reminded him more of the laugh that Castiel had in 2014. It was… distant… distracted.
“Purgatory is not my home. The sea is my home. The man I possessed, he lived on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. A normal human vessel is not the same as an angel’s vessel, though. The closest I could get to returning to my home was living near the shore, swimming in the waters, and enjoying life as close to what I once had as possible. But an angel vessel… I can do so much…”
The creature held its hands out to its sides and Dean could hear the roar of the water outside of the shack. He couldn’t exactly see what was happening, but he knew it had to be an impressive display to anyone within sight of them. But the Leviathan had chosen very isolated spots for their rendezvous. He doubted anyone was within ear shot of the place, let alone within visual range.
Dean could tell he was losing the bit of Castiel that he’d managed to keep at the surface though, so he quickly straddled him and captured his mouth with his own. The waters outside calmed and the Leviathan’s hands found their way to Dean’s hips as their languid kiss deepened. And again Dean lost himself. He lost himself in his feelings and his hopes and dream and in his ever growing imagination. He kissed Castiel and began to rock against him as his cock began to swell with need again. He loved him. He loved him more than he could even began to hope of expressing verbally. But he knew what he felt. He loved Castiel with every fiber of his being.
They kissed for several minutes until the Leviathan broke it abruptly. The look in the beast’s eyes was a mix of horror and confusion as he gently held Dean at arm’s length.
“I’m taking you home. Now.”
Day 8-14
The Leviathan was gone for several days and Dean had begun to think he’d frightened the beast off with their last encounter. On the one hand that would severely jack up his plans to bust Castiel out and fix his brother. But on the other hand, the constant fucking and reminders of what he could have had with Cas were starting to get to him in a very deep and traumatic way. Not only was he having to face some hard truths about his own feelings, but he had to own up to his regret and guilt over the whole situation. And he was never very good at processing those emotions to begin with.
He could use a break. He only hoped that break wouldn’t last too long or they’d miss their window to get Castiel free. And that would defeat the entire purpose of what he was attempting to do.
Dean tried to settle into a routine at Bobby’s house. He’d make meals, tidy up Bobby’s messy house, rummage through his vast library. All the while he’d keep a careful eye on Sam. It wasn’t until the third day without any sign from the Leviathan that Sam finally asked Dean to stop hovering over him like a hawk. ‘Asked’ was a kind way of putting it. More like ‘demand’ and ‘threaten’ to ‘back the hell off.’ Dean wanted to point out the poor choice in wording, but he didn’t want to stir up any bad memories. Hell was something he could joke about only when it came to his own experiences. And even then it was hard. But for his brother, it was too fucking much. Even a lighthearted play of words could break loose memories that were better left buried in the deep recesses of his mind.
At first Dean was hesitant to give Sam any space. He’d noticed Sam’s occasional odd behavior; staring off in the distance, unusual silences followed by small panic attacks, cold sweats. But Sam had insisted that he was fine. He’d insisted time and time again that he’d be fine. It wasn’t that Dean believed him. He knew he was having problems. But he respected Sam and as long as he was confined to Bobby’s house he wasn’t far from help.
It was midafternoon by the time Dean finally managed to convince himself to take his eyes of Sam. He went straight to the Impala, which was still a giant twisted heap of metal out in Bobby’s yard. He’d rebuilt her so many times he knew the drill. He’d have his baby back soon.
A few weeks maybe. A couple months.
But he only had seven days until he’d be giving his body over to the Leviathan. Eleven days. And if the creature came back between now and then he definitely wouldn’t have time to fix her. But if he worked on her from sun up until the early hours of the morning every day until then, he just might get her back in shape.
“Castiel can fix her too you know,” crooned a familiar voice from just behind him. “Just like your brother’s head.”
Dean spun around to find himself face to face with the Leviathan.
“Was beginning to think I scared you off,” Dean said, sounding slightly more breathless than he’d hoped for.
“You? Scare me? Dean, don’t flatter yourself.” The Leviathan sauntered past him and leaned against the car. He rested his hand on the crumpled metal and traced his fingers along a particularly gnarly gash. “You need to remember what you are, Dean. And you need to remember what I am.”
“Are you reminding me of this? Or are you just trying to remind yourself?”
The Leviathan narrowed his eyes at Dean again and pushed himself off the Impala.
“I know what I am Dean. I know who I am. I understand what is happening to me far better than you do. So don’t even fucking pretend…” He stopped inches away from Dean. He could feel the hunter’s breath on his face, could see every detail in his green eyes, and saw the miniscule muscle twitches in his face as he valiantly held his ground against the monster that was so much more powerful than him. And the Leviathan wanted him.
Suddenly they were kissing again, and neither of them was quite sure who initiated it. Neither of them really wanted to admit that it was him and they would more than likely blame the other. They both knew what was happening now and even though it was up for debate on who understood the situation better, it was clear to the both of them that Dean and Castiel’s love for each other was fucking them up. Big time. But it didn’t matter in that moment. They were grabbing and shoving and groping and kissing and soon the Dean was backed into the Impala and he felt his partner’s hard cock against his thigh and…
“NO!” The Leviathan pulled himself away from Dean. “No, I will NOT lose myself again. We can’t be around each other. You… you make me forget.” Dean stepped towards him, but the Leviathan matched him and moved away. “No Dean. Seven days. Seven days we will see each other again and this will be over for you. You will have Castiel back to repair your brother and your vessel will be mine. But until then you… you stay here,” he said as he gestured towards Bobby’s house. “And I will go where I belong.”
The creature vanished leaving Dean very confused, very distraught… and very turned on.
Seven days.
Seven days to fix the Impala.
Seven days to get his affairs in order.
Seven days left with his brother and Bobby.
Seven days.