#tiny!octo

That makes Dean nervous. Charlie is the owner of the shop, but she’s also in their friend group. In fact, she’s constantly working with Sam to better Dean’s life. Whatever she has planned isn’t going to be fun for Dean. It’s probably some exotic cat that can sense emotion and do a dance or some shit like that.

Charlie cheers from across the shop when she comes from the back and sees them. She waves her arm for them to follow and heads toward the fish. A fish, Dean can handle. Those are extremely low maintenance. In fact, he can practically forget about it. He’ll feed it in the morning as he makes his coffee and then the whole damn obligation will be over for the day. Everyone can be happy.

“Dean! I’m so excited! Just wait until you see him!” Dean laughs as Charlie squeezes him into a hug. For the life of him, he can’t stay crabby when she’s around. It’s impossible. She’s just too happy and energetic.

“Hey, Charlie.” Dean pulls away from the hug and winks at her. “Any chance you’re gonna give me some cute little fish I can stick in a bowl in my kitchen and call things good?”

She lifts an eyebrow, offended. “Absolutely not. That won’t help with the loneliness at all.”

Swallowing a groan, Dean follows her for the last few steps until they stop at a large tank. She starts speaking but Dean is only half listening. There’s a tiny creature inside the thing. It’s doing flips and swirls, stopping every few seconds to look at the people coming to visit him, before returning to his gymnastics. He has a human head and upper body that’s completely normal except some purple and blue freckles. From his waist down, he has blue tentacles that remind Dean of the ocean . Dean leans closer, reading the info card taped to the tank.

RARE

Enochian: Male

-High Maintenance

-Intelligent

-Friendly

Dean realizes he’s in deep shit when he reads high maintenance and doesn’t even flinch. He just goes back to watching the little guy. The news had these creatures on a while back. Divers had discovered them in the Bermuda Triangle. Other things were discovered as well, but it was just the Enochians that were brought back to America. They’re going extinct and the scientists wanted to save the species.

The little guy notices that Dean has gotten closer to the tank. He presses his hands against the inside of his tank, peering up at the man. Four of his tentacles suction to the glass while the other four start dancing wildly. He looks excited but also terrified. Like the unknown scares him.

“I want him,” Dean whispers.

The Enochian perks up at his words and Dean stands in surprise. “He can understand me?”

“He may have. He’s extremely smart and I know of many around the country that have become fluent in our language, but he’s not very social here. I haven’t had much of a chance to interact.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t speak.”

“I want him,” Dean repeats.

Charlie nods but she looks concerned. “You can try to pick him up. They’re too smart to go with an owner they don’t want. He’ll escape your place and then he’ll be in danger. I have to make sure he’s okay with leaving with you.”

“So, if he doesn’t want to come with me, he’ll stay here?”

“Yes.” She tilts her head, looking at the little guy. “They have heightened senses. Especially smell. Scientists have realized that they use smell for a lot of things. They use it when choosing interactions with humans. They can actually smell if they can trust someone. If they feel connected to someone. It’s fascinating.”

“So, he’ll decide all that when he smells me? When I pick him up?”

“Yes.” Charlie giggles. “Before I kept him for you, a few others came to buy him. He did not like them. Don’t be offended if he doesn’t want you either. He’s extremely picky. Pickier than any other I’ve heard of.”

Dean sucks in a breath. If this little guy decides he doesn’t want to go with Dean, that might break his heart. It’s crazy to believe that just a few minutes ago Dean wanted some fish he could forget about. Now? He’s already planning activities and conversations and ways to teach him to talk or function or play or anything else. He’s attached.

“Go ahead. Reach in there.”

“Do I grab him, or have him come to me?”

“Just slowly move toward him. He usually comes no matter what so he can smell you up close. Just go very slow, especially when you pull him out of the tank. If he gets scared or anything like that, he’ll try jumping back in. He almost hurt himself last time.”

“Okay.” Dean approaches the tank again and peers down. The little guy is in the center of it, his chin lifted up like he’s waiting patiently. He knows exactly what’s happening.

He reaches into the water carefully and opens his palm. The Enochian’s tentacles all bunch up, like he’s unsure and defensive. Then they slowly relax and he makes his way to Dean’s hand. He sniffs at his finger tip and looks up at Dean in pure confusion. Dean glances at Charlie with an eyebrow raised. “Is this going well,” he whispers, embarrassed at how nervous he is.

She’s staring at his hand in wonder. “Very.”

When he feels a weight settle in the palm of his hand, he looks back down. The little guy is settled in his palm and looking at him expectantly. Everything seems to be going well until he’s taken out of the water. Then he’s squeaking and looking terrified again. His eyes dart between Dean and the other two, his tentacles bunching again.

Dean keeps his hands above the tank in case he wants to jump out of his hands.

“Hey, Buddy. Don’t be afraid.” He pauses, unsure of what to do or say. When he glances at Charlie she makes a shooing motion with her hands, as if to tell him to go on with it. Dean takes a breath and looks back at the Enochian. He’s relaxed a little, and he’s got his chin tucked down as he carefully sniffs his hand. “I’m Dean.”

The tiny creature tilts his head and scrunches his nose. Then, carefully, he forms his mouth to whisper, “Dee.” Immediately after making the noise, the Enochian grabs one of his tentacles and squeezes it, cheeks flushing red as he carefully peeks up at Dean for approval.

Dean’s obsessed. He’s a fucking gonner.

“Yeah, buddy. Dee. Good job.” Dean flashes his best smile, and the Enochian mimics it, forming one on his own face. “I really want to take you home with me. Would that be okay?”

He holds his breath and waits. The little guy thinks for just a second before he squeaks and wraps himself completely around Dean’s thumb with a smile. “K! K!” He giggles a little and squeaks again. Dean’s heart nearly explodes.

Charlie claps and Sam gives Dean a huge smile. “So, you’re really doing this? You’re getting him?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiles back down at the little guy. “What do I do next?”

The Enochian puts a tentacle to the outside of the tank when it’s all done, peering inside. It’s already full of water, the filter plugged in to make sure it stays the right temperature, clean, and full of the proper amount of salt. It’s ready to go, so Dean asks, “Do you want to go in? Check it out?”

He realizes the little guy doesn’t understand because he looks at Dean and tilts his head, eyebrows crinkled. He shakes his head to make it clear he doesn’t understand. Dean points at him, nearly touching his bare chest, before pointing at the tank. “In? Do you want to go in?” he asks, repeating the pointing a few more times.

The Enochian nods frantically and puts his arms up, making grabby motions with his hands at Dean. He’s perfectly capable of climbing into the tank himself, but he’s grown very attached to the man with the soft shirt and nice smells. So attached, in fact, he’s not sure how often he plans on even being inside his new little home.

Dean gently picks him up, cradling him until they get to the opening of the tank. He puts his hand in the water so the little guy doesn’t have to jump, then removes it so he can step back and watch. The Enochian swims past the treasure chest, the box popping open and shooting bubbles toward the lid of the tank. It startles the little guy and he squeaks, a sound loud enough for Dean to hear even with him being under water. There’s a frantic twist of tentacles and arms.  Then he’s disappearing inside his castle.

After a minute of waiting, Dean decides he probably wants some time alone anyway. He lays back on his bed and grabs the book he’s currently reading from his bookshelf headboard. Shifting until he’s fully comfortable among the pillows, he crosses his ankles and opens the book. It’s one Sam bought him. He secretly loves reading but won’t ever admit it. He acts annoyed when Sam buys him books or gives him one to borrow. It’s his place. Everyone expects him to be the badass, tough guy who doesn’t read or like art or any of that stuff. Dean doesn’t mind pretending. No one bothers him. No one fucks with him. He doesn’t get hurt.

In the middle of a sentence, Dean feels something wet against his wrist. He looks over to see the little guy looking up at him nervously. His thick black curls are dripping water and sticking to his forehead, but Dean is paying more attention to the cute blush forming on his cheeks and the brilliant, otherworldly blue of his eyes.

“What’s up, little guy?”

The creature tilts his head and opens his mouth, but he can’t find any words. He could talk all day to this man in Enochian, but that won’t get him anywhere. When he sighs in frustration, Dean tries to ask again. “Do you need something?”

What were those words he used in the store? The man had asked a question using something that sounded like “k”. When he had said “k” back in response, the man looked very happy and took him home. He just can’t quite figure out what “k” represented.

He’ll just have to show him instead. He climbs up his arm and across his chest until he’s only a few inches from the strange thing in his hands. With the tip of one of his tentacles, he pokes at the thing. It’s hard and his touch leaves a small dot of water that soaks into it. He moves his head to look at the man and pulls his shoulders up in question. “K?”

“K?” Dean looks at the book, then the little guy, then the book. What the hell does “k” mean? “Um, are you asking what this is? What it’s called?”

When the Enochian just stares up at him in confusion, Dean points at the book. “Book.”

He turns his little head to look at the object again. Dean pokes at it a few times with his fingers. “Book. Book.” When he looks back up at Dean, Dean continues explaining. “I, well, Dean,” he says, jabbing a finger at his chest, “Dean is reading the book,” then he points at the book. He does it a few times before pausing, looking at the little guy expectantly. He’s not sure if that’s even what he was asking about, but it’s all Dean could think of.

A tentacle pokes at the page again and he whispers, “Book.”

“Yes! Yes! Book. Good job.” Dean nods quickly, smiling wide. The Enochian does a little shimmy. He still doesn’t understand anything but “book” but it’s clear the man is praising him. He loves praise. He loves being good.

Dean says again, including the finger movements, “Dean is reading the book.”

With a look of determination, he pokes a tentacle at the man’s chest. “Dee?”

“Yes. I’m Dean.”

“Dee.”

The man smiles. “Good enough.”

“Dee?” the little guy asks quietly, tilting his head in question.

“Yeah buddy?”

He doesn’t know how to explain, in words or in hand movements. He wants to thank the man for taking him home. He wants to let the man know how relieved he is to be here. The moment he smelled him, he knew. This man was his. They would be together forever and they would be very happy. He already loves him.

None of that can be told in hand, or tentacle, motions. And he definitely doesn’t know any of those words except in Enochian.

The little one is getting frustrated, breaths coming in huffs as his eyebrows pull in. Dean closes the book and puts it aside, then takes him into his hands. “Are you hungry?”

“K?”

“Hungry. Eat. Do you need to eat?” Dean makes a motion like he’s putting something in his mouth, then he points at his little belly to indicate that’s where it would go.

With a loud squeak, he shakes his head and tries wiggling out of his hands. He does not want this man to eat him! How could his smell betray him like this? How could it make him believe this man is safe? The man wants to eat him. Like he’s a common fish!

He squeaks and squirms until he’s out of Dean’s hands. Then he’s bolting back to his tank. He inks so Dean won’t know where he goes before getting inside the thing Dean called a castle. Then he stays completely still, trying to calm his hearts from the panic.

Dean sits on the bed, completely taken aback by what just happened. Obviously, the little guy misinterpreted what he was trying to communicate. He has no idea what he could have possibly thought. All he knows is he needs to go get some damn food and make it clear that what he was trying to suggest is perfectly safe. In fact, it’s something he needs.

Charlie said his favorite kind of fish is tuna, but he’s also allowed human food. After grabbing a bag of tuna he grabs a few chocolate chips from the half gone bag in his baking cabinet. Who doesn’t love chocolate? Hopefully not Enochians.

He sets the food up on a napkin, using a mason jar lid as a makeshift plate. Once everything is ready, he takes a piece of tuna in his fingers and gently taps on the tank glass. He knows he’s in the castle. There’s nowhere else secluded enough for him to hide from all angles. The ink is gone now, making the tank look completely empty. He taps on the glass again. “Buddy, Dean wants to show you. Food. Food to eat. Fish. I have fish. And chocolate.”

The little guy comes zooming out of his hiding spot, looking through the glass at Dean. Dean takes the chance and puts the tuna in his mouth, then points to his belly to show what he meant originally. Understanding blooms on the little guy’s face and he scrambles up the glass and out of the tank, trailing water as he gets to the food. He sniffs at it, then turns to look up at Dean with a wide smile. It’s the first time he sees the inside of his mouth. There are these adorable little fangs inside that poke out when he smiles. Dean’s heart bursts again.

“Fish?” he asks excitedly, tilting his head at Dean. He recognizes the word from the red haired lady at the store. She called his daily food fish. There were other things he ate, some he can remember the names of, but fish he knows for sure. Fish is good. Fish is delicious. He wants fish.

He has to be polite, though. His mom would kill him if she knew he wasn’t. So he tentatively points to the fish and says “Fish,” then to himself and says, “Castiel,” then he makes the eating motion, asking permission. When he’s done, he does his usual head tilt in question.

Dean smiles and nods. “Yes. Eat the fish. Castiel?” he asks, pointing at the Enochian again.

He nods and points at himself. “Castiel.” Then he points at Dean. “Dee.”

“Can I call you Cas?” He points at him. “Castiel.” Then points in the same spot. “Cas?”

“Cas. K!”

“Okay. Good.” Dean points to the food, feeling a weight lift. “Eat. Whatever you want. Fish and chocolate.”

A tentacle pokes at the chocolate before coming back and coiling. He’s unsure about this brown thing called chocolate. He will assess later. Instead, he starts on the fish. Dean leaves him be to go back to the kitchen. He heats up some microwave soup and brings it into the bedroom to eat with Castiel.

Most of the fish is gone so Dean adds more. Castiel doesn’t seem interested in it anymore, though. He pokes at the chocolate again. It still seems dangerous. He’s curious about what Dean is eating. He makes his way over to him and crawls up. His little hands curl over the lip of the bowl and he peers inside. It smells delicious. There’s colorful things floating around in the warm liquid.

When he looks up at Dean, the man is smiling again. “Want to try it? Eat?” he asks, pointing at the soup before putting a spoon to his mouth. “Eat? Soup?”

“Eat.” He nods, now understanding what “eat” means.

Dean takes a small piece of carrot on the tip of his spoon and holds the spoon to Castiel’s face. It’s still a little too big so he uses a tentacle to take it from the spoon, holding the slippery orange thing while he takes a bite. It’s delicious. He takes the second bite and looks up at Dean, wanting more. This time he’s given a piece of something green. It’s even better than the orange thing.

Together, they finish off the soup. His belly is full so he doesn’t try the chocolate. He’s not heartbroken over it. The stuff still looks weird. Even when Dean eats it himself before cleaning everything up, he doesn’t trust the brown things.

He rides in Dean’s flannel pocket, watching curiously as the man cleans the kitchen. Then they relax on the couch. Dean turns the television on, flipping through the channels until he finds the football game. He situates himself so he’s laying down with his head on a throw pillow. Castiel pokes his head out of the flannel pocket and looks up at him. “K?”

“What’s up?” Dean’s starting to realize “k” means Castiel needs something or is confused about something.

“K?” He crawls over to the center of Dean’s chest and pokes a tentacle in the direction of his head. Dean has no idea what it could mean but he nods.

Castiel smiles wide and scurries up his neck and along the side of his face. His smooth tentacles feel like Dean is brushing against glass. It tickles and he tries not laugh. When Castiel reaches his hair, he feels some gently tugging and the weight shifting before he stills. Dean waits for something to happen. Nothing does.

The big box with pictures that are moving is showing these little people running around with a ball. They have helmets on their heads, kind of like the Enochian warriors wear, and they hit each other a lot. The noises coming from the box are kind of loud and weird but he doesn’t mind all that much. In fact, once he’s used to them, he finds the noises soothing as he lays tangled in Dean’s soft hair. It smells even more like the man up here. In his shirt, there are scents mixed in that throw Castiel off. Something floral comes from the inside of the pocket. And Dean’s hands stopped smelling like him when he cleaned the kitchen. But up here? Dean smells like Dean.

Dean scoops him up and places him on the floor. It’s fuzzy and warm. Not what Castiel expected. He wiggles against the material while trilling happily. It’s even softer than Dean’s flannel pocket, which is saying a lot. Castiel loves that pocket already.

When Dean stands up, Castiel pauses and watches him. The man steps over him and starts leaving the room. Castiel squeaks in alarm and starts to skitter after him. Dean is walking too quickly. He chirps in panic, tiny suckers making popping sounds as he hits the hardwood flooring of the hallway. His chirps grow louder and more frantic, making Dean pause and wait for him. When Castiel finally gets to him, he’s out of breath and shaking. Dean kneels down to see him.

“What’s wrong?”

“K! K! K Dee! Dee K! K!” He’s wagging a finger while his tentacles flare wildly. His “k”’s aren’t excited or curious. They’re angry. He is clearly upset with Dean. “K! K!”

“Okay, buddy. Calm down. Just, calm down.”

Dean sighs, starting to get a headache. How will he ever communicate enough with him? Charlie said that some have become fluent in English, but Dean isn’t good at teaching languages. Especially when he doesn’t know Castiel’s original language.

The little guy wraps himself around Dean’s hand when Dean offers it to him. Each tentacle takes a finger, the remaining three clinging to his wrist. Then his tiny hands cling to the tip of Dean’s thumb as he plasters his body against it. He shakes his head at him to get him to understand that he didn’t like what Dean just did. “Dee K,” he whispers sadly.

“I don’t know what you need little guy.” He brings him up to his shirt pocket and places him inside. It takes a minute but Castiel finally relaxes all of his appendages and settles himself in the tiny space. He’s pouting but he’s willing to forgive Dean.

This time.

Next time this happens, though, Dean is going to get a serious piece of his mind.

They enter a new room. It’s a nice blue color that Castiel likes. There’s a big blanket type thing hanging to their right. It has an ocean scene on it, with bright fish, corral, and bubbles.

Castiel starts cooing wildly, reaching his hands out and making a grabbing motion. Dean understands what he wants and brings him over to it, putting him in his palm and reaching out so Castiel can see the shower curtain. He holds him for a few minutes, raising and lowering his hand all over so Castiel can see the different fish and plants. Every time Castiel sees a new color fish, he coos and chirps, and his little tentacles change colors to match.

After a long time, he sighs happily and relaxes in Dean’s hand, looking up at him in thanks. “K Dee!”

“Now, I need to go to the bathroom. That’s a private thing. I’m putting you down here and you need to stay, okay? Stay. Cas,” he points at him, then points at the rug, “Stay.” He puts Castiel down on the rug and points at him, then the material, again. “Cas stay.”

“Stay.” Castiel wiggles against the rug, enjoying the feel of it. It’s a lot like his carpet from the other room. “Cas stay. K!”

“Good.” Dean turns his back to him and stands in front of the toilet. Just as he’s starting to pee, a series of tiny pops come from behind him and then Castiel is peering up at him with his head tilted. “Fuck. Cas. Go!”

He tries stopping the liquid coming from his dick but it’s too late. As he finishes, he yells at Castiel and points at the door. “Go! Bad! Go Cas! Go!”

Castiel’s bottom lip puffs out and begins to violently tremble. After a few rapid breaths, he starts crying. Large watery sobs that seem far too intense for his little body. He balls up his tiny fists against his chest and scurries out of the room. Dean swears under his breath and hurries to finish and tuck himself back in his pants. Then he goes after him.

Except… he’s nowhere to be seen. His tentacles had dried so there’s no trail to follow. If he’s still crying, he’s either too far away or he’s muffling it somehow. Dean’s heart races rapidly as he picks up his pace and continues searching. “Cas! Come back. Come back buddy. Come here. Come to Dean.” He spins in a circle, his legs shaking. “Cas! I’m sorry, buddy. Please. Cas!”

The little guy tries to stay still in the cabinet he found. It was below the light box that Dean had watched earlier, and part of the door has glass so he can peek out to see if Dean is coming. He sniffles and trembles but keeps any other noises from escaping. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He doesn’t like Dean. Dean told him he’s bad and yelled and looked very angry. Castiel has no idea what he could have done.

He starts crying hard again. He puts his face in his hands and heaves deep breaths to calm himself. Unfortunately, he’s too loud. A sharp squeak of desperation escapes him and he knows Dean heard it. The man pauses and turns, walking straight toward him. He scrambles deeper back into the cabinet but bumps into large boxlike things. He releases a series of trills and inks himself.

Dean kneels down and opens one of the doors of the living room entertainment stand. He peers inside to find a teary eyed, blushing Castiel. The little guy has his tentacles all twisted together and his hands are cupped in front of him. He’s shaking and cooing under his breath like he’s trying to soothe himself.

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, okay?”

He reaches in for him, noticing that he’s sitting in a pool of his own ink. It’s probably not comfortable at all for the little guy. When his hand gets close, though, Castiel hisses. His sharp teeth show while he makes the noise. Dean has to bite the inside of his cheek because it’s fucking adorable, but he doesn’t want to make Castiel feel like he’s defenseless. The poor guy inked himself. He’s obviously distressed.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I - Dee sorry.” He places a hand over his chest and tries to look sad. “Dee sorry. Cas not bad. No bad. Cas good.”

Castiel sniffs, rubbing his fists against his eyes. He knows bad and good, they were one of the few words he picked up when the scientists did all those scary tests on him.

“Cas good?” he asks quietly, not understanding how he could be bad earlier but good now.

“Yes. Cas good. Dee sorry.”

“K,” Castiel whispers quietly, still unsure. “K, Dee.”

Dean’s face lights up and the smile makes Castiel calm a little. When Dean puts his hand out, Castiel carefully climbs into it, his face and chest flushing a deep red as he gets his ink all over the place. He pokes at a splash of ink on Dean’s thumb and whimpers, “Cas sorry. Cas bad.”

“Oh, buddy. No. It was an accident. No big deal. Cas still good.”

Nodding, Castiel repeats, “Cas still good,” like he’s trying to convince himself.

“How about a nice bath? I bet you’d love a bath. And it’ll get you all nice and clean. Do you want a bath?”

“Bath?” Castiel squeaks, tilting his head in confusion. He shrugs his slim shoulders. “Bath?”

Dean carries him back into the blue room, walking toward the curtain full of pretty fish. When he pulls it back, there’s a large bin that kind of looks like his tank, if it were to have a lid. He jumps when Dean turns a knob, loud water rushing out from a hole somewhere he can’t see. When he realizes what’s happening, though, he scampers down Dean’s arm and reaches out for the tub. He does a flip in the air as he slips, landing in the water with a painful plop .

Trying to catch his breath, he swims beneath the water, letting his body use the familiar sensations to calm itself down. When he feels better, he pushes to the surface and blinks away the water from his eyes. Dean is giving him a careful smile. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Cas K!”

“Good.” Dean’s smile grows. Then he’s digging in a cabinet, making lots of noises that hurt Castiel’s ears. The tiny creature dives back under the water where everything is nice and muted. He attention turns toward the powerful stream of water that’s filling the tub. As he gets close to it, the force sends him flying back, his body doing spins as it zooms across the water. He giggles and waves his tentacles in excitement, swimming back to do it again. And again. And again.

Then a pink substance is being added, creating bubbles that float to the surface. Castiel finds himself giggling as he plays among them.

When Dean turns the water stream off, Castiel swims to the surface and glares at him with a frustrated huff. His anger fades when he sees that Dean is adding colorful toys to the water. There’s a little boat, a colorful ball, and various rubber squirt toys. Castiel investigates the rubber toys first. There’s a duck, a stingray, and a bumblebee. The last one is what Castiel finds most interesting. He climbs up on it, using its antennas for support, and squeals. His tentacles wiggle and dance as he grins up at Dean.

“K! K! K!”

Dean smiles. “K,” he agrees.

He sits back against the toilet and watches Castiel play for what may be hours. The little guy goes and goes until he’s stretched out on the stingray, his eyes unable to stay open. Dean picks up the whole toy, letting Castiel continue to sleep on it, and carries him into the bedroom. He gently sets him down inside his tank, a warmth spreading in his chest at how damn cute the tiny octopus is, and decides to take another nap.