Somewhat A/U. Michael has been on Earth, practically human since he sealed Lucifer in the cage and he's been roaming until he decides to meet Dean. Then everything he ever believes changes. Will follow canon with some changes, obviously.
Everything is Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.
. . .
Chapter 1: The Meet
. . .
Dean smirked as he faced the man he was told to meet up with from Bobby. Apparently, this guy was a pretty decent hunter and Dean and John were on a fairly confusing and difficult case.
"Hi, my name is Michael," the hunter said, standing up. Dean could tell this guy was around his age, early twenties. He had shock dark hair that was slightly long and unruly like he just woke up from a long night of partying. He was tall, thin yet toned and had features that were sharp and defined. His eyes were large, round and colored a turquoise, almost glowing beneath dark, angled eyebrows. He was wearing a black band tee shirt and fitted, dark gray jeans. His arms were covered in half sleeves, gray-scaled tattoos of things like demons, angels, skulls and flames. He honestly looked like he could be an rock band member or roadie. He didn't look like a hunter.
Michael also had a strange glow to his skin though Dean assumed it was from the way the moonlight touched him.
"Your just a kid," John said, lifting an eyebrow as though he were incapable of believing this man could take out anything.
"He is like my age," Dean said, a part of his stomach turning and heart fluttering, sending a strange warmth and tingling into his core as he shook Michael's hand. He glanced up to see if John felt anything when he shook his hand but his father seemed unfazed.
"I assure you I can kill anything," Michael stated with a tone like he was offended on some note. There was something about his eyes that made him seem older than he looked. He then pulled out a silver dagger and gently slid it down his forearm, dark blood edging the line. Michael then pulled out a flask and allowed holy water to river down his other arm, "Not a shifter or demon."
Dean grinned, already liking this guy. He glanced up and John seemed hesitant but he nodded as he glanced at the vehicle Michael had driven up in. It was a beauty, clean, gleaming and damn perfect 67' Camaro Convertible. It was colored in a light, sky blue with a black soft top.
"Is everything on her original?" Dean asked, stepping closer to the vehicle to inspect the absurdly clean inside. The only way he would know someone ever drove it was coffee in the cup holder. Other than that, everything was perfect and appeared original.
"Oh, yes it is in the same shape which I obtained it in," Michael replied, looking confused until he realized Dean was talking about the car, "She...is original."
"Where did you get it?" John asked.
"A gift...this vehicle was bought by family the year it appeared and was given to me," Michael said, "Where are we going to talk about this...what creature do you think it is?"
Dean straightened back up and felt uneasy at the way Michael's eyes seemed to pierce into him like he was reading his soul or something. It was kind of creepy yet...Dean liked it in a way he wasn't sure how to think. There was just something about this guy.
"Actually, I was going to take off to a case over in Idaho," John said, "I was under the assumption you and Dean could take care of this one alone."
Dean darted his eyes to John and stared for a moment in confusion, "Um...you sure?" he wanted to ask what was in Idaho but decided not to.
"I don't see a problem," Michael said and Dean felt the eyes on him again and it made his hair stand on edge.
"Take the car," John said, "and take care of her."
Dean's stomach flipped when John tossed him the keys to the Impala. He opened his mouth to say something but John was already climbing into some random truck.
"Do you do everything your father tells you," Michael said once John drove off and Dean glared.
"Screw you," Dean snapped, "Now lets go get food or something while I tell you about this case. Just follow me."
Michael seemed amused but nodded as he sat down in his own vehicle.
Dean just huffed out in annoyance as he climbed into the Impala and moaned a bit at the way she growled to life, purring softly around him as Acdc began to play. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see the Camaro behind him and he smirked as he slammed on the gas.
. . .
"Why were you driving like that?" Michael asked as they stepped out of the cars parked in the lot of a 24 hour breakfast restaurant.
Dean smirked, "You're just jealous I beat you."
"I was under the assumption I was following you therefore, I would have to give you the lead," Michael said, smiling a little.
Dean rolled his eyes, not thinking about that, "Okay," he said, "food."
. . .
It was strange how comfortable Dean already felt around this guy. It really made no sense...Dean was always wary about other hunters or anyone else other than family for that matter but something felt right around this guy. It was like a part of him he hadn't known was empty was filled when he first stepped near.
"So...it's not a werewolf," Michael said, "Is it a skin walker?"
Dean opened his mouth to shoot out a no but he hadn't even thought about a skin walker, "I...I'm not sure. One of the witnesses said they saw a wolf but...it could have been a skin walker."
Michael gave a nod as he sipped at his coffee, which was the only thing he ordered other than a single waffle which he was eating plain.
"How do you identify a skin walker?" Dean questioned, not fully up to date on them. He knew silver could kill one but that was about it.
"I usually judge by the way one would act. Skin walkers may look like average dogs but if one hasn't been in canine form long then they usually express human emotion and responses a dog wouldn't," Michael said, "For instance, you can insult one and while a dog would usually just stare at you and not understand it, a skin walker might have an emotion in its eyes."
"So you insult dogs often?" Dean asked, grinning as he forked his pancakes.
Michael smiled, "When I find it necessary, yes."
Dean chuckled, imagining someone insulting every dog they came across, "any other way?"
"Silver choke chain," Michael suggested, "I'm not a fan of choke chains on any ordinary dog but in the case of a skin walker, it would do well."
"You like from PETA or something?" Dean asked, wanting to know more about this guy but not wanting to just straight up strike the questions.
"What is PETA?" Michael asked.
"They like fight for animal rights and are usually all vegans," Dean noted.
"I am not a member of this group but I would support their cause. Animals are much kinder and more innocent than the human beings who inhabited their planet and slaughter them," Michael said, a sort of knowing in his tone.
Dean just stared at him, not sure what to think of that statement. He loved animals and all but this guy sounded like he had a personal vendetta about humans. It made him want to laugh.
After some more conversing about the case and talking about random things, Dean had to ask, "Dude, what's with the tattoos?"
Michael smirked a little, "Long story...lets just point out that it wasn't my idea."
Dean chuckled, "Lose a bet or a long night you don't remember?"
"A night...or rather, nights, I don't remember," Michael said, staring ahead at nothing like he was reminiscing.
Dean took advantage of the moment to really look at Michael, whose eyes were more inhumanly blue than anything Dean had seen. There appeared to be a silver ring around the pupil. There even seemed to be a darker blue swirling through the iris. Michael's hair even looked inhuman in the way it seemed so silky and almost shiny like the fake hair you see in commercials. He had the temptation to feel the softness but deemed it would probably be the strangest thing he had ever done in his life and he did a lot.
Dean snapped out of it when he heard someone clear their throat. He then realized Michael was staring right back at him and there was a woman standing beside the table.
"Oh, Alice," Dean said, recalling the face of the woman standing by the table. She was one of the victims.
"I apologize for disturbing you but I wanted to tell you I saw the wolf again," Alice said, her eyes landing on Michael and remaining there. It made Dean feel an unwanted surge of jealousy when Michael gave her a very charming smile and she blushed.
"Where?" Dean asked.
"Oh um," Alice said, turning back to Dean, "it was roaming behind my house. In the set of woods there."
"Thank you, we will check it out," Dean said, wanting her to go away.
"Okay...," Alice said, she turned back to Michael, "I just have to say you have the most...perfect face I've ever seen."
Dean snorted and felt bad when Alice blushed but it was the most ridiculous thing a person could say to another, especially to a man.
Michael smiled, "Thank you, sweetheart," he said.
"Um..." Alice seemed hesitant like she was dizzy. She began to fumble around for a napkin and pen but Michael pushed the napkin away.
"You are a beautiful young woman but I do not need your phone number," Michael said, "You are...not exactly my type."
Alice blushed madly, "Oh...oh I see," she said then she winked, "I get it," with that, she walked away.
Dean let out the laugh he had been holding him, "That's the first time I wasn't the one picked. Does that happen to you a lot?"
Michael nodded, "Very much. It seems women like this...body."
Dean laughed again, "Are you gay? Not that I'm against it or anything, I'm just wondering because you said she wasn't your type."
"I don't label myself," Michael said, staring at Dean again and it made him feel uneasy but in a good sort of way.
. . .
Next thing Dean knew they were driving back to a motel after scoping out the woods where they saw the said wolf which had in fact been a skin walker and Dean had been surprised to see the way Michael smoothly fought the creature with such elegance it was ridiculous. Even when he stabbed the thing in the heart, he left no trace of blood on his own body nor did he have a mark. He was like a panther or something.
Dean ordered a room and when Michael went to get one, he was told there were none available.
"How does a 1 star motel run out of rooms?" Michael asked, sounding annoyed.
"There is a convention in town and all of the nerds from the state are here," the man behind the counter said, "I'm sorry but there are no rooms left."
"Do you know if there are any other places nearby?" Michael questioned.
"There is a hotel a few miles west but I'm positive it's filled. These conventions are pretty popular," the man said.
"Just stay with me," Dean offered, earning an eyebrow raise from Michael.
"I'm just saying, my room has two beds and I'm only using one," Dean said, his stomach now turning nervously.
"Thank you," Michael said, eying the man behind the counter. He turned to Dean, "I can split the bill."
Dean rolled his eyes, "It's like twenty bucks, not a big deal," he said, "C'mon."
Michael gave a nod and they made their way to the room.
. . .
"So you never even bothered to watch Star Wars?" Dean asked as he sat on his bed, staring at the TV which was playing a rerun of Family Guy.
"Why would I?" Michael questioned, "They seemed tedious to me."
"You are so weird," Dean announced, staring at the bottle of Jack Daniels that the other man pulled from his duffel bag. He began to drink it straight from the bottle.
"I don't watch television," Michael stated as he polished off a quarter of the bottle in one go. He held it out, "Want some?"
Dean wanted to badly, "Naw, I think my dad would kick my ass."
"You are 21, are you not?" Michael asked.
"Well yeah I'm over 21 but he says not to drink on the job," Dean said.
"We finished the job," Michael said, offering the bottle again and Dean took a deep breath before leaning over to take it. He didn't want to be thought of as a sissy so he began to chug from it like Michael did and it burned the back of his throat and warmed his chest and stomach as it flowed down smoothly. He handed the bottle back over, feeling those piercing eyes on him.
After a few hours, they were already on a second bottle and Dean was feeling more comfortable which never ended well for him. He knew he shouldn't drink because sometimes he would do stupid shit but he just wanted to have a good night and he didn't have the lingering pressure of being perfect around his father to bother him.
"So how did you get into the business?" Dean asked as they both were now sitting on the same bed, playing a card game which Dean wasn't familiar with but it was a drinking game.
Michael just stared at him, "My brother."
Dean lifted his eyebrows, "Oh...I didn't know you had a brother."
"I have a few brothers," Michael said, "A while back, my younger brother disobeyed an order from our father...it ended up turning him into a monster. My father had me chase him off and now he's locked away...but when he reappears, I have to kill him; I have to kill my own younger brother who I practically raised because he's a monster and my father ordered it."
Dean's stomach twisted painfully at the idea of having to do that. He couldn't even begin to comprehend the idea of killing Sam, "Sorry man, that seems harsh. Is there any other way?"
"He will kill a lot of people if he gets away," Michael said, "and my father disappeared but it was his last order."
Dean frowned, "Do you have any other siblings?"
Michael stared off for a moment, his eyes glossy, "None that I speak to. I have another younger brother who ran away...I haven't seen him in years."
"Are you the oldest?" Dean questioned.
"Yes," Michael said, "Enough with that, though. How did you get into hunting?"
Dean didn't want to but he explained what happened to Michael and he wondered why because this man was practically a stranger yet Dean felt as though he had known him his whole life. He never felt so close to anyone who wasn't family and this was just the first night he knew him. It made no sense.
Dean finished off the bottle as he finished his story and his heart began to race when he felt the warmth and tingling from Michael's hand over his. He turned his eyes to piercing turquoise and instead of Michael's eyes filled with pity, they seemed to be filled with understanding and it made him feel a whole new wave of curiosity to this man. Nobody had ever been so genuine.
"You will find her killer and you will get your revenge," Michael said.
Dean had no idea what came over him but he lifted a hand to cup Michael's smooth skin and closed the distance until their lips touched just lightly. He gasped a little at the sudden rush of heat and electricity that seemed to reverberate into his skin from the touch. He had no idea what came over him. He had feelings for men before but nothing like this and he wanted Michael. He felt a sense of terror at the thought of rejection.
Michael seemed to stiffen for a moment and his breath was like an ocean breeze washing over Dean, who was about to pull away. Dean was surprised when Michael lifted a hand behind Dean's head to pull him back into a kiss. This time it was stronger, more connected and damn, this guy was an amazing kisser. Dean found himself moaning into the kiss when Michael wrapped strong arms around him and moved them so he was on top of Dean on the bed.
Dean gasped for breath when Michael lifted up for a moment to stare into his eyes. Michael's eyes were like blazing blue flames in the dim light and Dean felt a warm thrumming over his whole body that made him want to relish in the feel.
"I shouldn't have done that, I apologize," Michael said and he was about to move away but Dean grabbed his silky hair and yanked him back down, capturing his lips once more. There seemed to be an overwhelming heat to Michael and it just made Dean want to get closer. He parted his lips and was shocked to feel how swiftly Michael took advantage of that, his tongue sliding in, mapping out Dean's mouth like he tasted of cherry pie. Michael tasted like...fresh air and ozone and his movements were strong and determined as his hands slid up Dean's shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Dean did the same, shuddering as he felt the warmth and euphoric sensations pulse through him.
He had no idea how long they were kissing before the phone ringing broke Dean out of the spell he felt like he was under. He groaned when he reached out to lift the motel room phone. He held it up to his ear as Michael pulled off of him, hair more of a mess and eyes glossy and blazing.
"Yeah?" Dean asked into the phone.
"Where are you?" it was John.
"Motel...trying to sleep," Dean said, "we got the monster."
"Okay...meet me in Idaho tomorrow," John said as he spilled off coordinates.
"Mmkay," Dean mumbled into the phone, realizing what he had done. He sat up and turned to see Michael sitting on the opposite bed, his face unreadable and eyes filled with what seemed like worry.
Dean hung up the phone and stared at Michael, "Uh...we should get some sleep."
"Yes," Michael said, "Definitely."
Dean took a deep breath, his body just starting to cool down from what they had just done. He laid down and fell asleep with the thought of Michael.
The next morning, Michael left in a rush and Dean felt a sense of emptiness without the other man. He ignored it, holding onto Michael's phone number tightly as he drove to Idaho.