Title: There's Something Wrong With This Plot
Author: nox_wicked
Claim: Lilo & Stitch
Genre: AU, Crackfic
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 3762
Rating: R
Warnings: Unbeta'd Rush Job. Creepy Perv!Cas, and a short Alien sex scene.
Summary: With their parents dead, Dean is doing everything he can to keep Sam and himself together. The new dog is not helping.

The moment he saw that friggin' dog, he knew there was something wrong with it.

It's not that Dean hates it or anything, it's just a really odd animal. Like, instead of the dog food he leaves out in the dish, Castiel (Sam makes up the weirdest names) apparently only has a taste for the vegetables Dean hides in the bottom of the fridge. And whatever, that's fine, Dean's not eating that crap anyways, and it's something Sammy and his pet can bond over.

But then there's other, more... unnerving stuff that goes on around the big black dog with the striking blue eyes. Like how Dean has never heard it bark. Or seen it sleep for that matter. Every time he walks by, Castiel's eyes are always open. Even when it's curled up in the dark. To be honest, It creeps the hell out of him. The one time it made a noise, it let out this low, rumbling growl which makes Dean think of old monster movies, and the dog whistle he bought doesn't seem to affect it in any way.

To top it off, he swears it was intently watching Jersey Shore alone last night.

So yeah, the new family dog is weird as hell. But it seems to make Sam happy, so Dean figures it can stay for awhile.

--

“Did you lose your job because of me and Castiel?”

Dean looks down at Sam, who at fifteen, is just barely hitting his growth spurt. Floppy brown hair is falling into his face in a weak attempt to hide the guilty expression, and sad puppy dog eyes beneath it.

And yes, if not for Sam bringing his stupid dog along to get the house keys from Dean while he was on his shift at the restaurant, maybe Dean would still have a way to support their tiny family. But really, Dean's always had a weakness for the puppy-eyes, and maybe the dog smelled drugs or something on that customer it almost mauled to death.

“Nah. Boris is actually a vampire, and he tried to make me join his legion of Pattinsons” he grins, reaching down to ruffle Sam's hair.

Sam's eyes widen – he's always been far too into that supernatural stuff- and he wordlessly follows Dean into their old house as he unlocks the door, Castiel at his heels. It's late, and Sam heads straight up to his room, no doubt still feeling pretty bad about the evening. Dean heads to the kitchen, hoping that a sandwich or something will calm his unsettled stomach.

He grabs the bread off the counter and checks quickly to see if there's any mould on the bottom. It's clean, thankfully, but they're out of sandwich meat, so he pops a couple slices in the toaster and leans against the counter as he waits.

Dean thinks back to all the places he's gone in the past week, desperately trying to recall if any of them had a “Help Wanted” sign hanging in the windows. Nothing comes to mind.

The toast pops up, but he's not hungry. He sighs and shoves the burnt bread into the fridge, silently vowing to eat it tomorrow. Wasting food is something he's not sure he can afford right now, and isn't that thought just great?

Dean slams the fridge door shut and exhales deeply. This is a major problem, and he has no idea what he can do about it. Raising a hand to his face, he rubs his eyes and tries to think of some way to get another job before the next bill is due.

He hears the nails clicking on the tile floor, but somehow the headbutt to his leg still comes as a surprise.

“Hmm?” Dean looks down at the mangy dog staring back up at him with curiosity. He sighs again and reaches down to pat Castiel on the head. “Don't worry about it buddy. I won't send you to the big white doghouse in the sky. Sammy'd kill me” he says as he smiles halfheartedly. He pats the dog a few more times before reluctantly trudging up the stairs to go to bed.

The social worker isn't going to like this.

--

That night, Dean dreams of a man lying naked beside him. It's dark in the room, but a small bit of light creeps through the blinds from the streetlight outside the window. The man strokes gentle fingers through Dean's hair, and pulls the blankets up when they slip off his body.

His dark hair is messy, and there are shadows cast all around his face, but Dean makes out two beautiful blue eyes that never once leave his face as the tender touches continue.

It blacks out after that, and Dean doesn't remember what else he dreamt about when he wakes up the next morning to an empty bed, and the dog lying in front of the door.

--

“You have until the end of the month to find a job, or Sam will be relocated to a foster home.”

The social worker's tone implies that there's nothing odd about her sentence at all, and Dean tries not to feel too intimidated by that. Atropos – somebody's parents must have been drunk – then turns to glare at Castiel from her position in the doorway, and jots something down on her clipboard.

“And when exactly did you get a dog Mr. Winchester?”

Dean shrugs, trying not to show just how terrified the tiny blonde woman in front of him is making him feel, and fails spectacularly. “Uhh...last weekend? I thought it'd be good addition, y'know, a friend for Sam.”

Atropos looks over at Castiel and narrows her eyes at him. “A dog is a lot of responsibility Mr. Winchester. It requires check-ups at the vet, which are definitely not cheap, food, a leash, excercise...They're also messy,” At this, she pauses and looks around the house with barely concealed disgust “...A trait I see you share.”

Dean frowns at her and steps forward. “Hey now, I know the house isn't in great shape, but you just came in at a bad time. I'll have this cleaned up before the day's out. I can take care of a dog too, I'm not incompetent!”

She scoffs and writes something else down, much to Dean's annoyance. “Sometimes I wonder, Mr. Winchester.” she mutters before clicking her pen and looking up again.

“Like I said. End of the month. If you still have no income by then, you and Sam will be separated. I suggest you start looking immediately.” She turns and opens the door to go, but stops and throws another look towards Castiel, who almost looks as though he's glaring at her from his spot beside Dean.

“You need to get a collar for that dog too. If you don't, people might mistake it for a stray mutt.”

The door slams shut as she leaves after that.

Castiel tilts his head at Dean when he gives it the finger

--

The next few weeks, Dean prints out resume's as though they're toilet paper. He hands them in to every store and restaurant he sees, and constantly checks his phone for any callbacks. In the meantime, Sam seems to be off doing his own thing with the dog, and despite their desperate situation, seems to be happier than ever. Castiel follows him everywhere, though he always sleeps in Dean's room. Dean talked to Sam about it, but his little brother assured him that he didn't mind.

Whatever. Another weird trait of the dog, he supposes.

As Dean continues his job search, and Sam does whatever nerdy thing he's into, Dean can't help but notice that the house is getting cleaner and cleaner each day. Clothes he swears he left on the floor somehow end up in his drawers, or in the laundry bin, and the dust that used to layer the shelves seems to have disappeared completely.

Dean thinks he should be freaking out or something, but the prospect of losing his brother to the foster system generally has most of his focus elsewhere.

Eventually, he gets a callback from a construction site. He shows up to work earlier than anyone else, and stays longer too. By the end of the day, Dean's muscles feel like jello, there are blisters on his hands, and he's covered in dirt. He could not be happier.

When he gets home, a crudely made cake with thick layers of icing is sitting on the table. Sam and Castiel stand beside it, and Dean pretends it's just dirt he's wiping from his eyes.

“Never knew you had the making's of a chef in you Sammy. You should make me some food more often, woman!” he laughs as Sam shoots one of his famous bitchfaces at him.

“Shut up you jerk! Castiel helped me. He knows lots of things!” the younger boy says as he smiles down at the large canine in their kitchen.

Dean quirks an eyebrow at his brother. “So...you learned to cook... from a dog?” he shakes his head and picks up a knife to cut the cake, smirking once he sees Sam's stunned face. “He doesn't happen to have a manual for dressing to please your man too, does he?”

Sam throws his piece of cake at Dean.

The kitchen gets pretty messy after that.

--

The recurring dream of the blue eyed man continues, just like it has every night since the first.

However, they've gotten progressively more...intimate.

For example, the first night the man just stroked Dean's hair and face and whatever, but in the current dream, he's touching places Dean's never even thought of.

The blankets are all thrown way back, the streetlight shining through onto Dean's exposed body as his cock is engulfed in the warm, wet heat of the other man's mouth. One of Dean's legs is tossed haphazardly over the man's shoulder, the other propped up beside his head. Sweat pours off of Dean's skin as the stranger runs a tongue over the underside of his dick, the man's head bobbing along the entire time.

One of the hands which had so lovingly caressed Dean's face a few weeks ago, was now resting against one of his inner thighs, the thumb circling over his skin is soothing motions. The other hand...

“Nngg...a-ah!” he moans as one finger runs over the skin of his entrance. The stranger stops his motions for a moment, and for a second Dean thinks that maybe he's going to wake up right now, which would totally suck. Instead, the man releases his hold on Dean's leg and leans up to capture his lips in a kiss that makes Dean want to see stars.

Fingers wrap themselves around Dean's cock and with a a few strokes and a soft cry, he comes.

Once again, he remembers nothing when he wakes up. Oddly enough, the sheets are spotless where he's sure a wet spot should be, especially after sleeping nude.

For once, Castiel isn't in the room.

--

“Tyson Brady invited me over to his house today...can I go?” Sam asks as he nervously plays with his cereal.

Dean looks up, a little surprised. He can't remember the last time Sam had another kid his age ask to hang out with him, if he ever had any at all. He shrugs and finishes off his own bowl before getting up to put it in the sink. “As long as you don't give it all away on the first date. Boys won't stick around if they think you're easy Sammy.”

Sam glares at him and crosses his arms. Dean just laughs and looks around for his workboots. “Don't be out too late. If you need me to pick you up, call my cell.”

Sam instantly brightens up after that, and for awhile, Dean thinks things might actually be going well for the Winchesters for once.

--

Barry White is playing throughout the whole house when Dean gets out of the shower that evening.

He doesn't think Sam's home yet, but he quickly pulls on a pair of jeans and heads downstairs to see if he's wrong. Sam has always been such a prude though, Dean has no idea why he'd be playing freaking sex tunes so loud like this.

He slowly pads down the stairs, only to find the house shrouded mostly in darkness. A soft light is coming from the living room, where the music also seems to be loudest. Slowly, he walks towards it, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Sam? Is that you?” he calls out as he steps into the room, only to wonder if he ate something really funky today.

There are candles all over the living room, lit and scented, if the smell of pie is any indication. The old stereo in the corner sings “Can't Get Enough of Your Love” at full volume, and there are flower petals all over the floor. In the centre of the room, staring directly at Dean, is Castiel.

Dean steps closer to the dog, confused out of his mind. “Cas? Hey boy, did somebody come in or something or...” he lets his sentence trail off as he stares back at the dog. The dog which is now growing, and contorting into something else. Black fur starts to recede from Castiel's body, and he starts to balance back on his hind legs as his limbs extend, and bones shift beneath pale skin. Finally, the face starts to twist back too, as the long snout is replaced by a human nose, and long fangs shrink down behind full lips. The one feature that doesn't change is the shocking bright blue eyes, which have been looking really familiar lately.

The man Dean's been secretly fantasizing about every night, is now standing butt naked in his living room. The stranger looks straight into his eyes and smiles.

“Hello Dean.”

--

That's it. He's done it. Dean Winchester has finally snapped under all the pressure. It's the only explanation. He's going to lose his job, his brother, his dead parents' house, and the men in white coats are going to come and take him away to the funny farm.

The man ducks as Dean throws another object – a book this time – at his head, confusion written across his face. “Dean, please! Stop throwing things at me, I can explain this.”

“Explain what, you psycho? How you got into my house and drugged me or something? No thank you!” Dean shouts as he throws a nearby glass at the stranger, just barely missing.

“Dean, stop it, it's me! It's Castiel!” the man pleads in a low, gravelly voice. Dean pauses his arm mid throw, the television remote in his hand.

“Castiel?”

The man nods and looks hopeful. “Yes. Dean, it's me. Please, just calm down for a moment and let me explain.”

Dean stares at him wide-eyed, but doesn't put his projectile weapon down. “You...Cas...just what the hell are you?” he shouts, not looking away from the other man.

The stranger – Castiel? - sighs. “I am sorry Dean. I did not mean to upset you like this. I had not expected my stay to last this long, and I had definitely not anticipated these emotions I am experiencing as of late due to you but I...” Castiel pauses and takes a breath.

“Dean, I am not from this planet.” he says with utmost seriousness.

The remote hits him in the face.

--

After an hour, and many bruises later, Dean sits across from Castiel(now clothed) at the kitchen table, wondering when his life turned into a bad SciFi movie.

“So let me get this straight: you're an alien.”

Castiel nods his head.

“You crash-landed here about a month ago, and used your freaky alien powers to turn into the first creature you seen, which happened to be a dog.”

Castiel nods again. “I was not sure which species was most predominant on this planet. Unfortunately I was hit by a car in my search for sustenance, and was taken to the animal shelter nearby before I could learn more.”

Dean sighs and puts a hand over his face. “Right. So then you moved in with us, but instead of trying to get back to wherever you came from, you stayed around to clean our house, and watch TV.”

“It is much easier to comprehend a language by hearing it spoken, rather than just reading about it.” Castiel replies.

Dean looks at him with disbelief. “Jersey Shore?”

Castiel squirms in his chair. “...It's very hypnotic. I am continuously fascinated by the 'Snooki' creature.” he mutters. Dean tries his best not to think the action is cute in any way and reminds himself to be mad again.

“You also got me fired and molested me in my sleep. Why don't you explain that for me, huh?”

Castiel sighs and looks at the floor. “I am truly sorry about that Dean. I did not mean for you to lose your job, but that man I attacked was the reason I crashed here in the first place. He stole something from me, and in the chase to retrieve it, he must have landed here as well. As for the...late night endeavors with you, I have no excuse for that. I should not have touched you without telling you the truth, and for that I am sorry.”

The look in Castiel's eyes makes Dean want to believe that he's telling the truth, but it's still a lot to take in, and he's had a long day.

“So...why exactly are you telling me now? You could've just kept pretending to be Snoopy, and we'd be none the wiser. Why fess up now?”

Castiel bites his lip and doesn't answer for a moment. Dean asks again, and finally the other man relents.

“After last night, I felt terrible for deceiving you the way I have for the past month. You've been nothing but kind to me, and in return I lied to you about who I was while taking advantage of you when you were vulnerable.” he pauses to take a deep breath before continuing.

“It wasn't that I meant to do that, and I didn't realize how much I...until..” he stops again, searching his mind for the correct words. “I have feelings for you, Dean. Strong feelings, that I have never felt before for anyone else. You are a good person Dean, and whenever I am with you, I feel...whole. If that makes any sense.”

He stares up into Dean's eyes and doesn't look away. “Please don't be angry with me. What I did was wrong, but if you give me the chance, I swear I will make it up to you.”

Dean leans back in his chair and looks away. He folds his arms across his chest, and doesn't say anything. Glancing towards the living room, he clears his throat and tries to avoid Castiel's eyes.

“...So what exactly was that show in the living room then, E.T? Were you trying to recreate a set from Casa Erotica or something?”

Castiel's face flushes a bright red, and he looks at his feet. “Well...the daytime programs on television indicate that is the general setup when trying to...'set a mood', I believe the term is. It was supposed to be an attempt to woo and seduce you. Clearly, it...didn't go quite as expected.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Clearly.”

An awkward silence sets over them, and Dean isn't sure how to break it. Desperately wanting to change the subject, he tries to think back of something else to ask.

“So uh...what did he steal?”

Castiel looks up and tilts his head. “Pardon?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “You said that you crashed here because the guy you chased took something. What was it?”

“Oh. A piece of equipment for a machine of mine back home. I suppose Balthazar thought it was a great joke taking it from me, but I really worked hard on that particular piece, and it was a very important component, and he's always been kind of a kleptomanic, as you would say, so I didn't know if I would get it back and-”

“Woah, woah, wait!” Dean interrupts, confused. “You like...know that guy? Personally or something?”

Castiel smiles wistfully. “I should hope so. He's my brother.”

“...You drove through space, crashed into a planet, and pretended to be a dog just because your brother was doing what brothers do?” Dean asks with disbelief.

Castiel grumbles and folds his arms. “You and Sam threw cake all over the kitchen over one comment. Don't judge me.”

A small laugh escapes Dean's lips. He's not sure who's surprised most by it.

“So what are you going to do now Cas? I mean...Between you and your brother, you've gotta know how to fix your spaceship or whatever. You gonna go home or something?” he asks, a little embarassed.

“Actually...I was able to go home awhile ago to be honest. I had hoped...that perhaps I could continue to stay here? If it's alright with you and Sam, that is. Though, if you want me to leave, I promise I will do so immediately. I can understand if I make you uncomfortable.” Castiel replies with all seriousness. His big blue eyes don't hide the fact that he looks terrified at the prospect of being sent away though, something which Dean doesn't fail to miss.

He pauses and thinks for a moment. In all honesty, the past month has probably been one of the better ones they've had in a long time. And the new job Dean has now is much less stressful and aggravating than the last. The house has never been cleaner either.

Sam hasn't been this happy since before their parents died.

His mind made up, Dean nods and stands up.

“I like junk food and action movies.”

Castiel looks at him, perplexed. “What?”

Dean smiles at him and shrugs. “Next time, just ask me to watch a movie and eat bad food. It'll work out better than Barry White, I swear.”

--