Dean stirred from his restless slumber, a faint gasp of pain slipping from his lips as he fought to regain his senses. It took considerable effort to pry his eyelids apart, and even when he finally succeeded, the blinding light streaming through the window forced him to shut them once more. Shielding his eyes from the harsh sun, he struggled to orient himself in this unfamiliar space.

As he lay there, enveloped in the warmth of a soft bed, he could feel the plush duvet draped over him, its gentle embrace a stark contrast to the lumpy motel beds he was accustomed to sharing with Sam. This was not the familiar discomfort of their usual haunts; tension eased from his shoulders as he contemplated the luxurious surroundings.

Gathering his courage, Dean inhaled deeply and opened his eyes again, his keen green gaze meticulously scanning the opulent room. Every detail was striking—the polished hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight, and the rich, deep colors of the decor hinted at luxury. He raised his attention toward the open balcony doors, where sheer curtains fluttered lightly in the breeze, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls. It was a world away from the dingy, cramped spaces that usually housed him and his brother, leaving Dean both intrigued and bewildered by where he had found himself.

Dean slowly propped himself up on the edge of the bed, every slight movement sending a jolt of pain racing through his temples. A low groan escaped his lips as he instinctively covered his face with his hands, the glaring brightness of the room assaulting his senses. The intensity of the light felt almost unbearable, overwhelming enough to distract him from the world around him, including the soft creaking sound of the door swinging open.

"Ah, you're awake," a smooth British voice resonated through the silence, cutting through Dean's foggy mind.

Startled, he shot his head up, only to be greeted by a fresh wave of discomfort that throbbed with his heartbeat. Taking a moment to focus through the pain, he was met by the sight of a strikingly handsome man standing before him. He was roughly Dean's height, perhaps even slightly taller, with tousled reddish-brown hair that framed his angular face. His dual-hued eyes—an intriguing mix of blue and brown—sparkled with curiosity and mischief, and a teasing smirk played on his lips.

There was a confidence in the way he carried himself, a lean, athletic frame that suggested he was both fit and capable. Dean couldn't help but feel a flush rise to his cheeks, the embarrassing realization that he found the stranger undeniably attractive creeping into his thoughts.

"Uh," Dean managed to stammer, forcing his voice to work despite the heaviness in his chest. "Who the hell are you?" The question came out weak, lacking any of the firmness he intended, sounding more like a weary inquiry than a demand.

The man's smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his expressive eyes as he gestured playfully to himself. "Klaus Mikaelson in the flesh. I happened to find you last night passed out on the side of the road! My dear brother Elijah suggested we not leave you...and well, here we are."

Dean frowned, his brow furrowing as he shifted to sit upright against the plush headboard, the fabric cool against his back. "And where is 'here,' exactly?" he asked, his voice still husky from sleep.

"My home in the French Quarter," Klaus replied, an easy confidence in his tone.

Dean processed that information, an unsettling mix of emotions swirling within him. This strikingly handsome man, with his sharp features and intense gaze, had not only rescued him but had also brought him to his own sanctuary. The soft sunlight filtering through the window indicated that it was Tuesday afternoon, and the realization hit him like a jolt—he had been unconscious for an entire night and a good portion of the day.

Suddenly aware of a tangible energy in the room, Dean glanced up to find Klaus watching him intently. A heat crawled up Dean's cheeks as their eyes locked, a sensation like electricity dancing between them. Klaus's head was slightly tilted, a predatory gleam lurking in his gaze that made Dean's heart race furiously against his ribcage. For reasons he couldn't fathom, Dean felt rooted in that moment, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of Klaus's stare—an unsettling combination of desire and nervousness curling in the pit of his stomach.

"Um...thank you," Dean mumbled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. His fingers brushed against the bandage that wrapped around it, a reminder of his vulnerability.

Klaus narrowed his eyes, a subtle smile playing on his lips that hinted at amusement. His gaze seemed to track Dean's every small movement, as if he were studying a rare specimen. "It was a pleasure to help, Dean," he said, the way he pronounced Dean's name sending shivers down his spine.

Dean's heart fluttered unexpectedly at the sound, confusion and disorientation mixing with a hint of something else—a feeling he wasn't ready to confront. Why the hell did that just happen? He couldn't be attracted to men, could he? Panic washed over him. He did NOT need this complication right now, not with everything else unfolding around him.

He didn't even bother to inquire how Klaus knew his name. More than likely, while he lay unconscious, Klaus had rifled through his belongings, checking his ID just as Dean would have if their positions were reversed. The thought lingered in his mind, but it was overshadowed by the unsettling chemistry between them, a spark that ignited a heavy tension in the air.

"You must be starving!" Klaus exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he clapped his hands together with a sharp sound that echoed in the room. "I'll go whip something up for you, and then you can gather your belongings to leave if that's what you need to do."

"Wait..." Dean tried to interject, but before he could finish his thought, Klaus had already vanished down the hall, leaving him in the stillness of the room. A lingering tension filled the air as Dean sighed, leaning back against the wall. He decided to make the most of this moment, his body heavy with fatigue. With a gentle flutter of his eyelids, he surrendered to sleep, allowing the exhaustion to envelop him like a warm blanket, pulling him into a much-needed respite.

🔯

The next time Dean woke, he found himself lying on his stomach, his right arm under the pillow and his left hanging over the side of the bed. His head was turned toward the door and opening his eyes, he found that he was nose to nose with Klaus.

Dean was too exhausted to do much more than make a noise at the back of his throat in surprise. Klaus was kneeling beside the bed, hazel eyes staring at him intently. For some reason it kind of reminded him of Cas when he didn't understand something. The other male was so close, Dean could see the amber specks in his eyes.

Opening his mouth to speak, Dean was hushed by Klaus who leaned closer, moving his face to his neck, causing him to shiver as lips brushed over his throat.

What the hell is he doing? Dean thought, as he finally decided to move. The action got a light growl from the back of Klaus' throat and he froze, a little scared of what the man was doing.

"Klaus, w-what are you doing man?" Dean tried.

Klaus pulled away from him slowly, raising his head and Dean inhaled sharply; there was a faint unnatural orange/yellow glow to his eyes and out of instinct, in the span of a second, Dean had shoved him back and reached under the pillow for his knife, momentarily forgetting that it wasn't there.

When the fact dawned on him, Dean scrambled to get out of the bed and put as much space between them as he could. He swayed in place from all the movement, his pounding headache threatening to take him under. He fought the pull of sleep and stared at Klaus in confusion and a hint of fear.

"What the hell are you?!"

A flash of hurt crossed Klaus' face at his outburst before it was quickly wiped away. The taller male sighed and looked at Dean, the glow in his eyes starting to fade. "Once you calm down, I shall tell you. I know that you are a hunter, Dean."

Dean didn't look like he was planning on moving anytime soon, so Klaus took a step forward, which in turn caused him to take an involuntary step back; he didn't know what brought this sudden fear of the man on but every cell in his body was screaming at him to run. It was sheer will-power only that he was still standing in the room.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Dean." Klaus said softly, which was very different from his earlier demeanor. Oddly enough, Dean believed him and began to calm down; he let Klaus come closer and lead him back to the bed. They sat down and Dean waited for Klaus to tell him more.

"I'm a hybrid, Dean. An original, if you will--the first of my kind." Klaus told him, his eyes obviously trying to gauge Dean's reaction.

"And a hybrid is..."

"I'm part werewolf and part vampire. I was made centuries and centuries ago by my mother. Much like the way your father roped you into hunting. There was no choice involved."

Dean frowned, feeling a tug at his heart and a tightening of his chest. He had no idea why he had the sudden urge to cry but he looked away as he felt tears well up in his eyes. Klaus wasn't wrong though. He had been forced into the life of hunting without much of a choice.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Dean asked suddenly. "You know who I am, so why..."

Klaus' demeanor changed once again and he swiftly stood up. "That is not something I wish to speak about right now with you."

Dean sat glaring at the floor, a little more than annoyed that the hybrid wouldn't tell him the truth. He had a right to know what had kept Klaus from killing him; it was his life damn it! He had a right to know what was keeping him alive. A heavy silence had settled over them and neither said a word for several moments.

It was because Dean was stubborn that he didn't speak first. He also had plenty of practice from the times when he and Sam had a big argument and they would ignore each other, only using the occasional short one word answers to a question the other might ask. There was never any small talk until either one or both cracked under the silence and finally tried to mend things with the other.

There was a heavy sigh that came from Klaus and he waited with baited breath for the man to speak. Before the hybrid could speak though, the door to the bedroom swung open, causing Dean to look up from the floor and lock eyes with a boy and a woman. The woman had blond hair and striking blue eyes, while the boy next to her had brown hair and dark brown eyes.

"Nik, what has been holding your attention for so long?" The woman spoke, her accent just as clear as Klaus'. Her eyes raked over Dean's body and he suddenly felt a little self-conscious, his cheeks flushing a light pink.

Klaus rolled his eyes at the ceiling, crossing his arms and tilted his head. Dean found himself staring; there was such familiarity in the small action, as if he was used to it--and really he shouldn't be feeling this way towards a man he just met--but he was and it confused him to no end.

"Why are you two here?" Klaus demanded.

"'Lijah told Kol and I to come see why you hadn't returned with the human yet." The woman sniffed, seemingly put off by Klaus' attitude.

Klaus cut his eyes over to Dean, who looked away immediately, trying to pretend that he hadn't been staring at him. The ghost of a smirk appeared on the vampire's lips, and he angled his head toward the woman and boy.

"Dean, these are my younger siblings. Kol and Rebekah." The two obvious vampires smiled in greeting. "Elijah is our older brother and Freya should be around here somewhere."

Dean smiled at them faintly, albeit shyly and dipped his head in greeting. "Hi, um-it's nice to meet you. Thanks...for saving my life."

Kol shot his brother a look, wearing a very devious smirk on his face. Much like the one Alastair used to wear when he got Dean to do something in hell. It freaked him out a little and he found himself fighting his fight or flight response.

"It was a pleasure and pure instinct to do so. Especially for one of us." Kol let out a laugh at Dean's confused look and Klaus' furious glare. Rebekah remained indifferent to the exchange and made no reaction other than to roll her eyes, before turning to Dean.

"How about we go get you fed? I'm sure you're starving."

Dean's stomach growled and he chuckled lightly, cheeks flushed in embarrassment at how loud it was. "Yeah, I could eat."