Title: Tradition Can Go Screw Itself (Or 'The Taming of the Shrew')
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: HigherMagic
Artist: liliaeth
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Word Count:
Spoilers: None, it's AU.
Warnings: knotting, asshole!Castiel, chasing, arranged marriages, references to MPreg, attempted non-con (not Destiel and doesn't go far), toys, rimming and D/s.
Summary: Castiel is an Alpha in high school – star athlete, most wanted bachelor on the market, and a temper to give him a reputation and a half. Unfortunately, that reputation has managed to reach the one Omega he never thought would be his: the one that he had been matched with from birth and was destined to be mated to. So, faced with the one challenge he can't fight away, Castiel has to prove to Dean that he's willing and able to be a nice guy – can be what Dean wants in a mate. If only it were that easy.
Author's Notes: Written for the abo_bigbang challenge on LiveJournal. Liliaeth on LJ did art for it - go check it out!

"Hey, bitch!"

Dean's shoulders tensed at the sound of an, unfortunately, well-known voice. He closed his eyes, wanting so desperately for his locker to open up wide enough that he could climb in and be swallowed whole, and tried to hide his face behind the red-painted door of his locker.

A rough hand wrapped around his shoulder, though, pulling him back and spinning him hard enough that he slammed against the neighboring locker, the open door of his own catching against his spine, and he barely stifled the pained sound that wanted to escape at the feeling of the sharp-edged corners digging into his back.

"You'll fucking look at me when I talk to you, you understand me?"

Dean bit his lower lip, keeping his head low and focused on the other student's shoes, because while he desperately needed to obey the order he also knew eye contact would just get him hit again and he was trying to make it through the day with as few injuries as possible. "Yes," he whispered, eyes closing again, head tilted to one side to bare his throat and hopefully placate the angry other teen.

"Yes, what?" came the reply, a hand at his throat forcing his head back against the cold, hard metal of the lockers, and Dean swallowed frantically, able to feel his Adam's apple pressing tight against the saddle of a hand, his own arms stuck firmly to his sides because he dared not fight back.

He opened his eyes again. "Yes, Alpha," he said, as strongly as he could manage – which was still, to his ears, pathetically weak – his gaze finding the burning blue eyes of the other boy and holding as steadily as he could. "Yes, Castiel," he bit out when the fingers squeezed tighter, gunmetal blue eyes narrowing, upper lip curling back in a snarl.

At the sound of his name, the Alpha teenager smirked in obvious pleasure, finally letting go of Dean and letting him drop back down onto the floor. Dean gasped, rubbing at his sore throat, swallowing hard. "That's right," the Alpha purred, pressing closer to Dean's body and while the Omega wanted so desperately to run, or to lash out and protect himself, he allowed it, ducking his head away to bare his throat and trying to make himself look as small as possible underneath Castiel. A hand flattened itself in his hair, fingers curling and nails dragging along his scalp hard enough to hurt, and he bit his lip to stifle a whimper. "That's a good boy. I got you something – would you like to see it?"

Dean swallowed, his cheeks reddening in an embarrassed flush already. He could only imagine what other kind of 'gift' Castiel might have gotten him today. The Alpha had seemed to develop this strange obsession with Dean – one that Dean could not and probably never would understand – and while Castiel's disdain and hate had been bad, his awful kind of attentiveness was far worse.

Castiel was a volatile presence in school – the teachers either loved or hated him (mostly hated him but they couldn't do shit because he was the star athlete and sailed through all of his classes without even trying) and the student body acted like in-heat Omegas around him. Whenever he passed through the halls at least two or three students turned their backs and bared their throats for him, but he always, always, chose to go and harass Dean. The Omega had no idea why and it scared and confused him, felt like fire ants were always crawling under his skin, wondering and waiting for the Alpha to show himself again.

He tilted his chin up in rare defiance, eyes focused on the collar of Castiel's letterman jacket. "My name's Dean," he hissed. "Not 'boy', or 'bitch'."

Castiel's eyes were practically glowing with Alpha glee – he loved seeing Dean riled up, though why Dean couldn't fathom, didn't want to fathom. His shoulders went tense again as Castiel slipped a hand into his leather satchel, and forced what he pulled out with a harsh slap against Dean's chest. "Business before pleasure, Dean," Castiel murmured, grinning wide enough to show the sharpness of his teeth. "It's due tomorrow."

Dean sucked in a breath, about to argue, but swallowed down his protest and wordlessly took the sheets of paper, his finger absently dragging across the staple in the corner, and skimmed across the assignment. An essay on Wolff's Bullet in the Brain. He breathed out a sigh of relief, seeing how many pages the story took up in the textbook for Castiel's class. Only three pages long. Shouldn't take too much work.

And that was why Castiel was flying through his classes so easily, while Dean was barely struggling to pass. He was too busy doing the all-star Alpha's homework to focus on his own. "I really appreciate this, sweetheart," Castiel purred, smile sharp and voice too-sweet, that low growl that always brought an embarrassed flush to Dean's cheeks, and the Omega bit his lip, silently slipping the stapled packet between his own notebooks without a word. "You're such a good Omega, Dean, always so willing to please me."

Dean could count on one hand how many times Castiel had called him by his actual name – and since Castiel knew everyone in school, Dean had doubted that it was because he didn't know it. His name, coming out of Castiel's mouth almost like a curse, a snarl, made Dean's shoulders tense, his eyes flashing to the golden-colored skin stretched around Castiel's strong jaw, rough with dark stubble and clenching tight.

He didn't even want to think about the second half of Castiel's comment – didn't want to think about the warm feeling in Dean's stomach or how his lips twitched with an instinctual smile, hearing Castiel call him 'good'. "That the business?" he asked instead of trying to squirm away, raising his eyes just shy of meeting Castiel's, knew that the figurative eye of the storm that was Castiel was brief and icy cold, and he was shivering.

Castiel's smile quirked up higher in one corner, sharpening. His eyes gleamed, tiny threads of Alpha red mixing with the blue when he leaned closer, one forearm braced against the lockers and locking Dean in. Dean was younger, still a junior because of his late birthday, and shorter than Castiel and still kind of weedy and gifted with much of the natural grace and beauty Omegas had, but he was starting to fill out, was due for another growth spurt soon, and it warmed him to think that Castiel might not be bigger than him for much longer.

"So eager," Castiel whispered, leaning in close, his voice low and snarling and sending a shiver straight down Dean's spine. The Omega's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned away on instinct, throat bare to the Alpha's mouth should Castiel wish to make a mark there. There was a conflict in his head, demanding that he stand tall and keep his neck protected, but the far more dominant part of him was willingly baring his throat and lowering himself to the ground for the Alpha.

Castiel's next words made Dean freeze. "Next week's your eighteenth birthday, Dean," he said, again using Dean's real name, and it was throwing the Omega for a huge loop, so out of character for the normally loud and cocky Alpha – that he would ever care about Dean's birthday, or know when it was, was a shock and a half. He turned his head and Castiel leaned away, their eyes meeting, Castiel baring his teeth in a smile. "Your parents organizing a chase?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, and he lifted his chin in defiance. "For your information, my family doesn't buy into that barbaric crap," he hissed, anger making him much more daring than he normally would be. Almost as soon as he said the words, Dean froze up again, eyes wide, but Castiel was laughing, shaking his head in amusement and leaning back, finally giving Dean some space. The rush of cool air against Dean's red cheeks was dizzying. "They said I already have a mate. I'm meeting him on my birthday, not that it's any business of yours."

Castiel's eyes flashed at that, and he snarled. "Oh, is that right?" he asked, humor gone now, threat back, and Dean immediately ducked away when Castiel took a step towards him again, putting himself away from the lockers and now backing down the corridor. Most of the students had gone, home or to after-school clubs. Dean had been grabbing his books for homework and heading home when Castiel caught up with him.

The Alpha's eyes narrowed, seeing Dean backing away, and Castiel turned towards him with another low snarl. "Should have known your family would have sold your pretty little ass, soon as you were ready to breed," he bit out, and his gaze felt like a physical caress over Dean's body, the Omega shuddered hard and took another step back, his eyes instinctively darting to the floor, but forced upward so that he could see if Castiel was going to make a grab for him.

Castiel was advancing on him, sure and cocky as ever and Dean shrank back. "You know who he is?" the Alpha asked, too casually, too low and Dean swallowed, shaking his head. "Don't you dare lie to me, Dean – if you know and don't tell me, I can make you regret it."

"I don't know who it is, Castiel, I -."

Dean choked off with a startled cry when Castiel was suddenly at him again, pressing him up against the lockers with the strong grip of his hand wrapped tight around Dean's throat. Castiel's arm locked and he could lift Dean with one hand – he was strong, incredibly strong, and if Dean wasn't so scared he knew his body would be reacting on instinct to such a display. But as it was he dropped his notes and grabbed for Castiel's hand, knowing it was useless. Castiel was an athlete, the star athlete, and if he wanted to really hurt Dean, he could, and no one would be able to stop him.

Castiel let him linger there, eyes almost completely threaded with red now so there was no more blue left to them, upper lip curled back in a vicious snarl as Dean struggled and kicked at him to try and get free. Finally, after what felt like forever where Dean's vision was starting to blacken out around the edges and he was sure Castiel would actually try and hurt him, the Alpha let him drop, hands suddenly wrapping around Dean's just below his shoulders to stop him from falling. Dean coughed, grabbing at his throat and did his best to convince his lungs that they weren't still suffocating.

He looked at Castiel, disbelieving that the Alpha had let himself fall that far, before Castiel blinked and the red was gone from his eyes so suddenly that Dean had to wonder if it had been there at all. A hand gently touched his jaw and Dean flinched with a low gasp, making Castiel's eyes harden.

"I was going to wait," Castiel murmured, cocking his head to one side and a smile returning to his face. That smile scared Dean more than when the red had overtaken Castiel's eyes. "I was going to bide my time, but circumstances are always changing, aren't they?"

"What circumstances?" Dean whispered, horrified, his voice still weak and croaky after the abuse at Castiel's hand.

The Alpha smiled, one corner of his mouth quirking up high, and then suddenly he was kissing Dean.

Understandably, Dean was a little confused, but there was no denying the insistent press of Castiel's lips against his. The Omega gasped, shuddering at the warmth of the Alpha's body pressed so close to his, harsh, unforgiving flesh in front of him and hard, unyielding metal lockers behind. Castiel kissed Dean like he already owned him, hand that had touched his jaw dragging nails roughly over Dean's scalp, cupping the back of his neck and pressing hard on either side in the imitation of a chasing bite. Dean clutched at Castiel's biceps, at a loss of what to do except fight back, get some air between them, but if anything that just spurred Castiel on, the Alpha pressing closer between Dean's legs – and when had he spread them? He couldn't remember.

Castiel bit at his lower lip, forcing Dean's mouth open so his tongue could slide inside – again, like he owned Dean's mouth, like there was no part of Dean that he could not and had never touched or kissed or bitten. His free hand curled around Dean's hip, just under his shirts, thumb stroking the jut of his hipbone and dipping just under the waistline of his jeans in a teasing caress that had Dean shuddering.

The younger boy's cheeks flamed when he realized that he was getting wet, body reacting to the stench of Alpha so close to him, testosterone in Castiel's scent and coating his mouth making Dean's body react without his consent. His entire body felt like it was on fire, Castiel's teasing, soft touches a cooling balm and so unlike what Dean had ever experienced at the hand of the older boy that he had no idea what to do or say, or how to respond.

Finally Castiel pulled away, tiny threads of red in his eyes almost unnoticeable, but he was standing so close that Dean couldn't help but see. He smiled again – the same cocky smirk as he had worn in the beginning – and carefully withdrew his hands. Dean bit his lip to stifle a whimper, somehow wanting that touch to return. Castiel made him feel as though he was on fire and now, without him touching Dean, the Omega feared that he would burst into flames and turn to ash at the Alpha's feet. God help him, but he wanted Castiel to touch him again, and how messed up did that make him?

"I have something for you," the Alpha murmured after another second, taking a step back, and Dean's eyes darted down to the bag where Castiel's hand dipped again. He licked his lips, not certain of what to expect, but sure that it would be embarrassing or humiliating or both.

He was not disappointed.

Dean did not immediately recognize the object that Castiel withdrew, but as soon as he did – well, he thought his face couldn't get any redder, but apparently he was wrong. "I want you to wear this tomorrow," the Alpha said, his voice firm enough that Dean recognized that it was an order and not a suggestion, and Castiel handed the thing over. With shaking fingers, wondering at the fact that his body didn't even think about disobeying Castiel, he took the anal plug, grimacing at the smooth plastic feel.

Then, he flinched, because Castiel was pressing up against him again and his shoulder collided hard with the lockers. "I'll know if you aren't, Dean," the Alpha purred, bending down to growl the words into his ear and Dean shivered, eyes fluttering closed as he bared his throat on instinct. His entire body was trembling and he could feel his slick starting to soak through his clothes, and God, how could his own body betray him like this? "I'll see you tomorrow. And don't forget that essay."

And then, he was gone. Like the strings had been cut from him, Dean sank down onto the floor, leaning heavily on the lockers for support. He gasped, clutching at his own chest and staring at the plug in his other hand. He should throw it away – should tell Castiel to go fuck himself and that Dean doesn't need this shit from the Alpha and that when he gets his mate he'll make sure Castiel is the first on the guy's list. He should -.

Dean swallowed, sighing, and shoved the plug into the bottom of his bag and piled his notebooks and papers on top of it. He fled from the hallways soon after, not positive that he would remain unmolested should Castiel run into him a second time.

The scent of Dean's arousal teased at Castiel's nose all the way home – the Alpha smirked to himself, replaying over and over in his head how flushed the younger Omega had been, his weak attempts at pushing Castiel back and the fear in his eyes when he'd found he couldn't. Oh, yes, Dean was ripe for the picking and Castiel fully intended for his hand to be the one that plucked Dean from the grasp of other Alphas.

The news of this supposed arranged mate enraged him, a low growl rumbling out of him before he could stop it. A couple of Beta girls had been walking the other way and they shied back at the sound, flushing and whispering under their breath as they passed Castiel – he didn't give them a second glance. Dean was his, damn it, and if he had to rip out the throat of this other Alpha and fuck Dean over his cooling corpse, he would make sure the Omega and everyone else knew it.

He had been patient, too – so damned patient, insinuating himself casually enough in Dean's life that the Omega's body would recognize his presence regardless of anything else. The kiss had been a little unplanned, sure, but there was no denying the results – Dean wanted him in body, if not yet in mind. Perhaps Castiel would have to butter him up a little more: after all, there was no fun in fucking an unwilling bitch. The thought of forcing himself upon Dean was one he would not entertain – it was sick, he thought, that for some Alphas it was the norm.

He'd just have to step up his plan. That was all. When Dean's eighteenth birthday hit it would only be a matter of time before the Omega went into heat and Castiel could claim him properly. He didn't have a lot of time, but Castiel prided himself on being flexible in the worst of circumstances.

His older brother was there to greet him when Castiel came home, and it took maybe two seconds – three? – before Gabriel's face split into a wide, smart-ass grin and he had an arm slung around Castiel's shoulders, dragging him into the living room before Castiel could even take off his shoes.

"Tell me what happened," Gabriel crowed with what could only be described as manic glee, golden eyes glowing with threads of Alpha red at the scent that must undoubtedly be strong enough on Castiel for him to sense. "Did my little bro finally get laid?"

"Go fuck yourself, Gabe," Castiel hissed in reply, turning his head to bite at Gabriel's shoulder until the older Alpha hissed and let him go. Castiel stood, brushing himself of the imaginary dirt that Gabriel's touch could conjure. "Unlike you, I only plan on fucking one Omega in my life."

"Ah." Gabriel's smirk grew in understanding – he knew of Castiel's obsession with the Winchester boy, all of their family did, but Gabriel had been the only one to take an active interest in it – for the rest, Dean was too young, or didn't strike their fancy. "He's turning eighteen soon, isn't he?" Castiel's lips pressed together and that was all the answer he needed. "Well, you're gonna wanna start scent-marking him, if he's ripe soon."

Castiel nodded, fingers flexing at the idea. "He's been matched already," he murmured, mostly to himself, but he knew Gabriel would hear if he cared to listen. "Don't know who to, though, but I'll let that son of a bitch claim Dean over my cold, dead body."

"Hey, no one's got a knot in him yet," came the reply, Gabriel's hand landing on Castiel's shoulder, nails curling hard enough that the sharp point of pain helped to center and ground the younger Alpha. "Just don't let yourself get carried away, 'kay? Dean's a good kid, and if you fuck him over, well, he's got an Alpha brother. Still a child, but when he gets older…"

"I know," Castiel replied irritably, brushing his brother's hand off. "I have no intention of hurting Dean."

Gabriel hummed, his eyes carefully searching his little brother's face, and Castiel bore the searching gaze readily, jaw clenched and chin tilted up in defiance. Finally Gabriel deflated with a roll of his eyes, and scratched a hand over the back of his head. "Alright, Cas, alright," he finally said, raising his hands in defeat and stepping back so that maybe the lines of red in his brother's eyes would fade. Castiel's shoulders slumped, sensing the submission in his older brother.

He knew Gabriel had his best interests at heart, really – Sam Winchester, even though he was still young, would likely grow up to be one powerful-as-Hell Alpha, if the look of his parents was anything to go by, and while Castiel would have maybe four or five years before he became a threat, if Castiel mistreated Dean – well, it sure as Hell wouldn't end well for one of them. Bound as Dean might be to Castiel at that point, no Omega could resist the demands of their family over that of their mate. It was stupid, and inconvenient, but it was true.

Not that Castiel intended to hurt Dean, or mistreat him in any way. No, that would be barbaric and cruel of him – not to mention the fact that he could never bring himself to harm the beautiful boy any more than he could allow him to go mated to another.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing at the corners of his eyes as he sensed Gabriel leaving the room. He allowed himself to collapse back onto the couch, rubbing his hands upwards and through his hair. A week. He had one week – not even that, five days? – before Dean's eighteenth birthday, and if it meant he had to charm the sun from the sky, he would make Dean want him, need him, soak for him.

One way or another.

It was eleven at night before Dean finally finished both his and Castiel's assignments, and he felt exhausted. His encounter with the older Alpha had left him strung out and on edge, nervous at every creak of the floorboards or touch to his shoulder. He was sure, when he had come through the front door and Sam had greeted him, just slightly hesitating on the '…Hey, Dean', that Sam could smell the slick from him – slick that still hadn't stopped and he had been soaking into his underwear and jeans the entire way home and there was even a wet spot when he'd schlepped the clothes off and jumped into a shower.

It wasn't that Omegas were asexual before going into Heat, but there was definitely something about Alphas that kick-started whatever it was that made Omegas slick and fertile and everything else. Dean hadn't paid much attention in health class, granted, less interested in the humanities than the sciences as he was, but he knew what was happening on a chemical level – testosterone from Castiel, planting itself into Dean's mouth and his pores and his head until Dean's body came to associate the Alpha's presence with mating opportunities. It was terrifying, had Dean's hands shaking when he scrubbed at his skin like it was burning him and tried to think of distinctly unsexy thoughts until the scent of his body wash and shampoo had overridden the Alpha's scent.

It felt like forever when Dean's body had finally stopped and he was able to change into sweats and a baggy t-shirt that was freshly laundered and therefore smelled like nothing, but finally he had done it. And he'd skipped dinner, wolfing down a pop tart and Coke instead so that he would have time to finish Castiel's Bullet in the Brain essay. The assignment itself wasn't hard, but every time Dean thought of Castiel – of the Alpha's eyes fairly glowing in pleasure like they did whenever Dean was uncomfortable or nervous, of the way his mouth looked when he said Dean's name, of the heat of his body and the smell of his skin or -.

Dean's hand was clenched tight enough that his pencil broke. "Shit," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and sitting back. He could feel it again – the warm shiver running down his spine, pooling low in his gut. The fine tendrils of heat crawling across his skin, making his hands clench as he carefully set the broken pencil down.

He pursed his lips, fingertips drumming across his desk, and tipped his head back, eyes closed. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to relax, to calm down the warmth thrumming under his skin and making him feel restless and tired at the same time – he wanted to sleep, so badly, but he could feel himself starting to respond to the thoughts of Castiel again, and there was no way in Hell he was risking another shower and garnering the suspicion of his family – awkward as shit, that's what that would be.

He could sleep naked, but again he'd probably stain the sheets and that would be just as awkward. If only there was a way…

Dean's eyes strayed to his bag, which had been dumped unceremoniously at the foot of his desk once he had retrieved his notes and books from inside it. Castiel's 'gift' was still inside, sitting there like a bad thought in the back of Dean's head.

Well. It would help with the slickness, wouldn't it? Wasn't meant to leak out around plugs – was why Alphas liked to use them on their Omegas between knotting, keep their spunk inside or whatever (What? He watched porn, give him a break).

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Dean reached down to pull his bag into his lap, fishing through his notes, MP3 player and headphones, and other assorted crap before he found the thing. It felt just as weird and foreign to touch as it had before, and Dean gingerly look it out, dusted it off and set it upright on his desk.

It wasn't that large – or at least, didn't appear to be – but Dean's ass clenched at the idea of sticking something up there permanently. But even as he thought that, his body let out another traitorous trail of slick and he winced when he could feel it soaking into his clothes again. Better that, he supposed, than soaking through every clean pair of underwear he owned.

He signed and stood up, tucking it up the sleeve of his hoodie to hide it as he went to the bathroom across the hall. He washed it off of any fluff or other unidentifiable substances clinging to the surface, and set it down again as he stripped off his sweatpants and underwear. After another cursory wipe down and his thighs and ass, he couldn't delay it any longer.

Vaguely, when it was done and Dean had crept back to his bedroom, flicked off the light and slid under the covers, he was surprised at how easily the plug had gone in. If he laid down just right and didn't make any sudden movements, it was almost like it wasn't there at all. His body had accepted it almost eagerly, hole puffy and slick and easily parting under the gentle pressure from the tapered head.

The Omega sighed, glad at least that he wouldn't have to be in pain during the night.