theatregirl7299 (theatregirl7299) wrote,

On the Thirteenth Day of Christmas: Wicked Game

Title: Wicked Game
Author: theatregirl7299
Fandom: White Collar/Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Dean, Sam, OC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,099
Spoilers: None
Beta Credit: elrhiarhodan
Warnings: None
Summary: What happens in the Big Apple, stays in the Big Apple.

Author’s Notes – Written for sinfulslasher for the 13th day of my 12 Days of Christmas Meme. Yeah, I know – but she begged and I couldn’t help myself. So consider this a baker’s dozen. She requested “The towns you drive through on the way to somewhere else” – Neal, Sam and Dean. This is what my flu-ridden brain came up with….

The night was quiet, the windshield wipers making an off tempo counterpoint to the music on the radio. Dean Winchester drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to stay awake. He glanced over at his brother Sam, sprawled out on his side of the car, and debated waking him.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, he figured they'd find a hotel in the next hour or so to stop. To keep himself alert, he gave Bobby a call.

“Bobby,” Dean said, when the older man picked up the phone. “What’s going on?”

Same crap, no matter what I do.” Dean smiled at the gruff sound. “So how far are you from the Big Apple?

“Probably about four hours. We’re gonna stop and rest some and then get into the city by noon. Who am I meeting?”

“Manny Ramirez. He’s out of Jersey. He’ll be your contact.”

“So you got any more info on what we’re dealing with?” Dean tuned to a stronger station that was playing some classic rock.

“Some kind of being, fleecing tourists of their money. Also there are rumors of him running cons and whenever the police get close, he just slips through their fingers.” Dean heard Bobby shuffle some papers around. “And he may be accompanied by an imp, we’re not sure.”


“Can’t be - too tall. This one looks human.”

“So you’ve got a description?”

“Yeah, male about 5’11”, dark brown hair, blue eyes. Good looking if the opinions of the female marks are anything to go by.”

“Do we know where this thing is holed up?”

“Not yet. Manny is following him so he should have something for you when you get there. I’ll text you his phone number.”

“Great. I’ll call him in the morning.”

“Sounds good. Keep me posted.” Bobby paused. “And Dean? Just be careful. This one feels off for some reason.”

“Will do.” Dean clicked off the phone and tossed it between him and Sam. Humming along to CCR’s ‘Proud Mary’ he focused on the road as the Impala ate up the miles.


A hotel stop for sleep and a shower, and the skyscrapers of New York City were in their sights. Dean had contacted Manny, who gave them directions to the Malibu Diner to meet up. They found the place easily and pulled in.

“So, Bobby give us any more information?” Sam asked as they headed into the restaurant.

“Nothing new.” Dean saw Manny sitting at a corner table. “He said Manny had pictures.” They made their way over to where the other hunter was sitting.

“Hey guys.” Manny greeted them. “Have a seat. Jolanda will be by to get your order if you’re hungry.”

“Dean’s always hungry.” Sam chuckled. “Especially if they have pie.”

“Oh man! This place has the best pie.” Manny leaned in. “I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s better than my abuela’s, but don’t tell her I said that.”

Dean laughed. “Not a problem.” Jolanda came by the table and they placed their orders, Dean making sure he got a piece of the Dutch apple.

“So, tell us what’s going on,” Sam said, taking a drink of his water. “What’s this problem you needed our help with?”

“We’re not sure.” Manny pulled out a file folder. “It’s more like a hunch than a problem. You know we get a lot of grifters in the City. But this guy – it’s like he’s magic. Fleeces the marks and makes them happy to hand over their money.” He handed the folder over to Dean. “I’m embarrassed to say that he took my money, too. No clue how he did it.”

Dean opened the folder and caught his breath. Bobby’s description of ‘good looking’ didn’t do the man in the picture justice. He was gorgeous - thick brown hair, piercing blue eyes, a smile bigger than Sam’s. Dean bit back a groan. This man was exactly the kind he would pick up in a bar when the need got too much. He shoved that thought down and read the rest of the notes in the file.

Possible name: Neal Caffrey. Looks to be about 25-30. Grifter, runs card cons in Madison Square Park. Associate – short man, glasses, no name at this time.

“So it’s not that he’s just good at what he does?” He passed the file over to Sam. “Above average?”

“No, if he were that, it wouldn’t be a problem.” Manny shook his head. “When I watched him run ‘Find the Lady’, I could follow him like most other card sharks. But when I stepped up to play, it was like…” He paused. “It was like I had a fog over me. I lost, but I wanted to play again. I’m ashamed to say he cleaned me out of five big ones.”

“Hmm…” Sam closed the file. “Any idea what it could be?”

“No clue. That’s why I called Bobby. I was hoping you boys could figure it out,” Manny said.

“We’ll take a look,” Dean replied as Jolanda brought their food. The conversation moved to war stories as they ate. Dean had to admit, the pie was excellent. Finishing up their meal, they got directions from Manny to a cheap motel where they could set up their base camp. As they drove there, Dean couldn’t help but feel like this job was going to be different from anything they’d seen before.


Four days later they had nothing and it pissed Dean off. Actually, that was wrong – they had a whole lot of little bits of somethings, but nothing concrete.

They’d ruled out most of the supernatural beings that were not associated with money or deceiving people. The closest thing they could come up with is that the target might be some type of Fairy. Dean had left Sam in the motel room, eyes glued to the laptop, while Dean collected more information on their target.

He was surprisingly easy to find. Caffrey – they’d confirmed his name with a shopkeeper – could usually be found in the park, playing ‘Find the Lady’, or chatting with the local Bodega owners. In their own languages. So far they had been able to identify Italian, French, German and what Sam swore was Swahili. Sam just looked at him when he said no human should be able to speak that many languages and why couldn’t Caffrey just speak English like normal people.

Dean tried to keep his distance but there was something about Caffrey that drew him in. Several times, He'd almost gotten caught tailing him when Caffrey suddenly detoured into a store or café. There were other times when he could swear Caffrey was staring at him but whenever he looked, Caffrey’s eyes were somewhere else. It was unnerving and exciting at the same time.

Then there were the dreams.

Dean would wake up, cock hard and dripping, images of Caffrey bent over him, the man's hand on his dick, telling him how he wanted to fuck him. Caffrey spread out on his bed, perfect ass in the air, fingers working frantically in and out of his hole, begging Dean to put his cock in. Kneeling in front of Dean, mouth open, as Dean came all over his face.

The last one had him jerking awake, gasping, his orgasm spiraling through his body. He didn’t close his eyes the rest of the night.

It was that lack of sleep that kept him off his game and vulnerable to attack when it came. One moment he was walking down Madison Avenue, the next he was up against a stone wall in an alcove.

“Why are you following me?” Caffrey’s voice was pleasant but held a hint of steel.

“I’m not following you! Man, you’re crazy!” Dean struggled, trapped. Caffrey’s lean body belied a strength that was definitely not human.

“Um…wrong answer. It’s been what? Three or four days now?” Caffrey released him and stepped back, appraising him. Dean swung, missing Caffrey’s head and found himself face planted into the wall, Caffrey stretched out behind him. “Couldn’t have missed a face like yours.”

Dean couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. Something in Caffrey’s voice held him still. “Hmmm….” He felt breath on his neck as Caffrey leaned in. And sniffed him. Caffrey’s low chuckle vibrated him from shoulders to ass. “Dean Winchester. Why am I not surprised.”

“You know me?” Dean ground out. “How in the hell do you know who I am?”

“C’mon Dean, everyone knows you.” Caffrey pulled away, flipping Dean around so his back hit the stone. “Dean Winchester, hunter of bad things. You’re a legend.” His smile was wide.

Dean allowed himself a moment of pride before focusing on the – whatever – in front of him. And cursed himself the minute he did. Caffrey’s eyes were fastened on him, the blue morphing from calm sea to rolling waves as he looked Dean up and down.

Dean’s cock reacted to that gaze, hardening against his jeans. Fuck! He didn’t need this. Not now. Instinctively he licked his lips and watched Caffrey’s eyes follow the movement.

Trying to will his traitorous dick to calm down, he asked. “What are you?”

“Wow. I’m shocked Sam hasn’t figured it out yet.” Caffrey seemed to be surprised that he didn’t know.

“We know you’re some kind of fairy.”

Caffrey laughed. “Now that’s funny, Dean. A fairy.” He quickly stopped laughing, trapping Dean’s eyes with his. “Close, but not quite. Not just a fairy, Dean. THE fairy.”

THE fairy? “Wait…you’re Oberon?” He was so fucked. “The king of the fairies?”

“We prefer Fae. Yes, but you can call me Neal.” Oberon – Neal – stepped back and released Dean from whatever spell he’d been put under. “So back to my question – why are you following me?”

“You hit the radar, your highness.” Dean shook his shoulders loose, preparing himself for fight or flight, whichever worked. “Seems as though your card games drew the attention of the local hunters.”

Neal sighed. “I was afraid of that. And here I thought I could go slumming in the Big Apple for a while.”

“Yeah, well, they kind of frown on fleecing the tourists,” Dean shot back.

“Yeah, I guess they would.” Neal tilted his head, thinking. “So they had no clue who I was, huh?” Dean shook his head. “And they had to call in the big guns.” Neal chuckled. “I have to admit, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.” Dean glanced to his left, judging the distance for escape. “Now that we know what you are, we can get rid of you.”

“You really think you can make that happen?” Neal quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Let me share something with you, Dean.” Neal leaned in and brushed Dean’s ear with his lips. “I’m not your average Fae,” he whispered, sending chills down Dean’s back. “The regular tricks of the trade don’t work on me.”

Fuck. Dean knew he was screwed. If the salt and sugar didn’t work on Neal, there was no way they would be able to capture and nullify him. He needed to get to Sam, tell him who they were dealing with. He had to make a break for it.

He took two steps before Neal had him shoved up against the building. Chest to chest, thighs trapped. “Oh, Dean, that was totally the wrong thing to do.” Neal pressed against him, cocks rubbing together, arousing Dean despite his attempts to run. “Don’t you know it’s never a good idea to run from the Fae?” Neal leaned in and nuzzled Dean’s jaw. “It makes us take interest. And you, Dean Winchester, have become very interesting.” Neal snapped his fingers and the street disappeared.

Dean found himself spread-eagled on a massive bed. Struggling, he realized that he was tied down, except there were no visible tethers.

“No fucking way. Oberon!” He shouted but got no answer. “Neal!”

“Right here.” Dean turned his head. Neal was sitting in a tall leather chair. “You don’t have to shout.”

“Let me go.” Dean glared at him.

“Nope.” Neal stood up and made his way over to the bed.

“Then just do whatever the hell you plan to do and get it over with.”

The grin on Neal’s face was unearthly. He straddled Dean’s hips and leaned down so their lips were inches apart. “I plan on fucking you and that’s not something you want to rush.” Neal closed the distance between them and claimed Dean’s lips. Coaxing and nibbling, urging Dean’s mouth open so he could press the kiss deeper.

Oh god! Neal’s taste, his lips, the weight of his body sent electricity throughout Dean’s body. Neal smelled like heather and meadows and wildness and it spun up Dean’s arousal. It had been too long since he’d felt angles where curves should be, a cock rubbing against his thigh instead of a pussy. A moan escaped him, causing Neal to chuckle.

“Glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself,” Neal said as he placed kisses along Dean’s jaw. “Would hate to think that this wasn’t any fun for you.”

“Fuck you, Neal.” Dean hissed as Neal sucked a bruise onto his neck.

“Maybe next time.” Neal sat up and smirked at Dean. “And before you say it, yes, there will be a next time.” He snapped his fingers and they both were naked. “There, that’s better.”

Suddenly Neal was everywhere. Mouth on Dean’s nipples, biting and sucking until the nubs were blood red. Hands on his cock, squeezing as he jacked him slowly, fingers caressing behind his balls, moving closer to his hole.

Dean bucked his hips, wanting to get those fingers right on his pucker so he could feel them inside him. He was totally lost in wanting Neal, needing Neal.

“Please…” The word was torn from his mouth as Neal stroked him, up down, over and over.

“Please what, Dean?” Neal’s voice was a purr. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want your fingers inside…” He hissed as Neal tapped his hole with two fingers. “God, do that again!”

Neal obliged once, twice. The vibrations went straight to Dean’s cock, making him whimper. “Need for them to get wet first, before I get them inside you.”

Those fingers were at Dean’s mouth and he sucked them in without a thought. “Yeah, that’s it, nice and wet for me.” Moments later Neal pulled them out and slithered down Dean’s body. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Neal slowly pushed one finger inside. “Nice and tight. Can’t wait to see how you’re gonna feel around my cock.” His second finger stretched Dean as Neal crooked them to tease his prostate.

“Ungh…there…right there.” Dean rocked his hips, trying to get Neal’s fingers deeper inside him.

“So beautiful,” Neal whispered. “Need to taste you.” Dean shuddered, moaning as Neal licked his cock from base to head, before wrapping his lips around him and sucking him down. Still bound, Dean was helpless against Neal’s onslaught.

“FUCK!” Delirious with want, Dean thrust into Neal’s mouth, into the wet, tight space as Neal hollowed his cheeks and took him almost all the way. Once more and he felt Neal’s face touch his body, the head of his cock pushing against the back of Neal’s throat.

Neal tortured him, pulling off his dick while scissoring his fingers, stretching Dean, then swallowing him again, playing with his prostate, his rim, adding more fingers until he could take three, then four.

“God Neal…gonna come…” Dean was right on the edge, his balls tightening.

Neal gave his cock a final lick. “Not till I’m inside you.” Dean whimpered at the loss of Neal’s fingers.

“Hurry...” He locked eyes with Neal, the lust, the want, obvious. Neal smiled, lined himself up and pushed in.

“Oh my god!” Waves of pleasure racked Dean as Neal thrust in and out hitting his prostate with every move. He wanted to pull Neal into him, but he couldn’t. “Let me go. Need to feel you deeper.”

Scaoileadh,” Neal breathed. “Release.” And the bindings were gone.

Dean surged up, grabbing Neal and crushing their lips together. Hooking his ankles around him, he rocked Neal harder, pulling him deeper inside. “Harder…wanna come…please….”

Neal sped up, pistoning in and out, fucking Dean hard like he wanted. Their skin sliding against each other, sweat slick, taut.

“Now, Dean. Come now!” Neal wrapped their hands around Dean’s cock, jerking it once, twice. It was enough to send Dean over the edge, come spilling over his chest, their hands, his muscles clenching around Neal’s dick. He felt the warmth of Neal’s orgasm filling him as Neal stilled, then collapsed on him, his chest heaving.

They lay there, their heartbeats slowing, Neal’s head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean never wanted to move. He could stop hunting, stay right here, wrapped up in - .

“You can’t.” Neal’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What?” Confused, he looked over at Neal.

“You can’t stay here.” Neal ran his hand over Dean’s chest, tracing his tattoo.

“How did you know - ?”

“What you were thinking?” Neal interrupted. “Easy. You were feeling the glamour.”


“Yeah. Fae magic. Makes humans want to stay with us. Ask Sam about it.” Neal shifted. “It’s what allowed me to con all those marks.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, about that. Am I going to have to find some big bad Fae spell to get you to stop?”

Neal laughed. “No, I think my time in New York is over. It was only temporary on my way to other places anyway.”

“So what’s your next stop?”

Not sure where I’ll go next.” Neal paused and looked up at Dean. “I’ve heard Paris is nice this time of year.” He leaned up and gently kissed him. “I’ll see you around, Dean Winchester.” Dean blinked and he was gone.

Slowly Dean got up, wincing as he walked slowly to the shower. The hot spray cleansed his body but not his mind. He toweled himself off and looked into the mirror, touching the bite marks on his neck, running his fingers over his swollen lips. Proof that what happened was real.

Dressing, he quickly called his brother. “Hey, Sammy. I think this is a dead end.” He explained as Sam asked questions. “Yeah. He uses sleight of hand and some kind of scent that make you high for a short time. We’re wasting our time here. Besides, I think the guy’s done with New York City. I’ll let Manny know.” Hanging up the phone, he grabbed his jacket. A scent of heather wafted past and he smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Neal Caffrey,” Dean said as he closed the door.


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