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Destinies	By : angelwarrior1 Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5931 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter. I make no profit from writing this.

Chapter List
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Title: Destinies

Author: Angelwarrior1

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Harry Potter

Summary: Dean Winchester is running from destiny. Harry Potter has accepted his. This somehow results in the pair ending up in an unlikely reality. Sam is there too.

Chapter 1:

The blaring sound of an alarm clock pierced his ears. He felt his body jerk in shock. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was laying down on a soft bed. Shouldn't he be somewhere else? A flash of soggy wet earth and shouts of screams, explosions, pain, and death went by his mind's eye. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

Oddly enough, it wasn't just his own body he felt. He could feel weight wrapped around his waist. Since Harry Potter was no coward, he dared to open his eyes and find out what the hell the weight was. Instead of the scream that tried to run racing out into the nicely decorated room, a strangled whimper was the only sound of distress Harry gave.

The weight was an arm, a well muscled arm. That arm was connected to a man, a well muscl- uh- well a man. Harry pried his eyes away from the gorgeous man he was currently in bed with, and what the hell?! He was in bed with a gorgeous man! This kind of luck never happened to him, not without a truck load of bad to go with it!

Harry was freaking out, and not because of waking up wrapped in the arms of a man. No, he'd discovered his preference for males when he was fourteen, due to Cedric Diggory looking like- well Cedric Diggory. So waking up to a man who was definitely the type he would go for wasn't the problem. The problem was the whole waking up to a gorgeous man thing, it wasn't like Harry was a prize catch himself. Plus, there was the lack of memories on how he'd gotten into bed with the guy in the first place too.

Let it not be said the Harry Potter didn't have his priorities straight. Ron would be proud, and oh Merlin, Ron! Harry wasn't sure why he felt so sad at the thought of his red haired friend, but he felt it had something to do with why he was here.

The blaring of the alarm came back full force, like he was hearing it for the first time, instead of the drowned out muffled beast it'd been while he was having his restrained panic attack. Harry stopped breathing when the arm around his waist moved lazily and hit the alarm clock's button to silence the annoying device.

The intake of breath through nostrils and a throaty hum reached his ears, and Harry kept himself still as a nose suddenly buried itself into his neck.

"Mm, morning." A raspy low voice grumbled next to his ear, and holy hell was this man's voice incredible!

"Morning." Harry squeaked.

A chuckle that sounded like it was being run over sandpaper ruffled the hair next to his ear, and lips were suddenly kissing at his neck. Harry willed himself not to respond as this guy who was basically Harry's wet-dream-come-to-life attacked his neck for the next few minutes. He managed to hold in the sigh of relief, and disappointment, as the man finally pulled away and ended his torture.

"I'll probably be working late tonight, so if you could just leave some leftovers for me that'd be great."

"Uh, sure." Harry had yet to look the man in the face, but the man certainly didn't have a problem when his hand gently turned Harry's face towards his.

"Hey, you alright?" His eyes met Harry's for the first time and it felt so odd.

It was like he knew those eyes. They made him feel loved, and secure, safe. They felt like home. As a matter of fact, before Harry'd had his freak out upon waking, he'd felt the same way whilst wrapped up in his arms as well. He shouldn't be feeling such things, though, he didn't even know this man.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry held the man's searching gaze as he replied.

His answer was apparently the wrong one, as the man's lips thinned and his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"You had nightmares again, didn't you? Of those bastard's house?"

Well, he supposed that was true, as the last thing he remembered before waking up here was dying. If that wasn't a nightmare, then what was?

"Yes." Harry admitted quietly.

"It wasn't the cupboard one again, was it?" The man asked in a soft, gruff voice as he ran a soothing hand up Harry's side.

"No, it was a different one. Uh, you should get going, you'll be late for work." Harry had no idea if that was true, but anything to stall this guy's questions.

"Okay, but I expect you to tell me about this later. You know what the therapist said about you holding all this stuff in." The man gave him a look that said Harry certainly hadn't fooled him, and how long had this guy known him to know that?!

"Alright." Harry moved to get out of bed, and the man finally let him go.

He busied himself with stretching as he waited for his bed partner to go to the bathroom and show him where the hell it was. The odd look he got from the guy made him stop his impromptu stretching. Instead, he followed his bed partner to the bathroom. He really needed to find out the guy's name, as it was awkward referring to this man as, "The Man", in his head.

So lost in his thoughts, was he, that Harry hadn't even noticed what the man was doing until he heard the sound of water hitting water. He glanced up and nearly shrieked in embarrassment, as his partner stood there relieving his bladder with his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his face. Harry spun around and practically raced away.

"Uh! I'll go make us some breakfast! You just get ready for work!" Harry missed the look of complete bewilderment on the man's handsome face, as he fled the area.

Working on autopilot, Harry began putting together a quick breakfast of... well he was going to do eggs and toast, but apparently that wasn't happening. The refrigerator was stocked with the kind of food only a health nut would eat. Eventually, he found what he first thought to be a small carton of milk. He was wrong. It was a carton of egg whites.

Harry just stared at the carton in shock. They had eggs without the yolk for sale? In a container? He suddenly felt like Author Weasley when being taught about a Muggle item for the first time. It wasn't a nice feeling, and it made him despise the Dursley's just a little more for keeping him locked away from the outside world for the majority of his life.

Finally pulling himself away from his morbid thoughts, he began to put together the best breakfast he could. While cooking, he tried to figure out what his next steps would be. He needed to find out just where he was, the date, who he was in this familiar, yet different world. He so needed to find out who that man was.

Finishing up, he looked through the cabinets for some kind of tea he could drink. Finding a box of Earl Grey, he set the kettle to boil water, then took a seat on a stool. From what he'd seen, the place they were staying in was a flat. A very modern one, from the look of things.

Arms wrapping around his shoulders made Harry jump and turn.

"Hey, easy! Geez, are you jumpy today. Look, I gotta run, but we will be talking about this later tonight."

"Don't forget your breakfast." Harry mumbled quietly.

"You made breakfast? Why, you know I pack my own breakfast and lunch the night before. Besides, you know how I feel about you trying to cook all the time." Now the man was openly giving him that odd look again, like Harry had just grown an extra body part or something.

"I'm sorry, guess I just wanted something to do. It's ok, you don't have to eat it." Harry felt silly and kept his eyes averted to his lap.

"Hey." That same gentle, yet gruff tone that made him feel very small and fragile grabbed his attention.

"You know I love it when you cook for me. I'll just take it with me and eat it at work, okay?" He gave Harry a little chuff under the chin with his curled index finger and smiled at him.

"Alright." Harry gave a tentative smile.

Harry walked the man to the door to see him off and was surprised yet again when the man turned and looked like he was waiting for something.

"So I haven't gotten my morning kiss yet. Come on, knock me a 'lil kiss right here." The man had a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at one of his cheeks.

Harry could feel the blood rush to his face as he leaned up on the tips of his toes to grant the man his request. The squeak that left his throat, as he was quickly wrapped in strong arms and kissed breathless, was one he would deny till the end of his days.

The kiss was fast and it was rough. The lips were very soft, however, and the tongue that was obviously used to gaining access licked its way into his. He felt the moan that managed to bubble up and into the other man's mouth. An answering groan rumbled into him.

Just as quickly as it'd started, it stopped. When Harry registered anything again, it was his hands clutching tightly to the lapels of the man's business suit. The look on the man's face said he knew exactly how Harry would react to his kisses, which annoyed him greatly. He didn't even know how much that kiss would affect him, and yet this man seemed to know a lot about Harry. The man uncurled Harry's hands from his suit coat and gave him one more kiss on the forehead, before turning and leaving.

As soon as he was certain the man was gone, Harry burst into action. He ran into what looked like an office, likely the man's, and began looking through papers to find out any information he could. Apparently the man's name was Dean Smith, which he found himself liking, though the Smith part seemed a bit too plain for such an attention grabbing man. He wasn't able to find out what his name was, nor anything about where he was.

Figuring the television was his best option, he went into the living room and turned it on. Finding a news station, he listened for a few minutes, then promptly fell onto the couch and stared into nothing.

It was 2009. The final battle of Hogwarts had taken place on May 2, 1998. He'd been seventeen when he died, and now he was what? Twenty-nine?! Did it count when one traveled into another year?! He wasn't sure. Harry darted off the couch and into the bathroom. The sight that greeted him shocked Harry so badly, he stumbled backwards and hit the wall behind him. Whenever he'd looked into the mirror back home, all he would see was the bags under his eyes, the fatigue haunting every line in his face. He'd looked half-dead to anyone really paying attention, and there weren't many who'd done that.

This person staring back at him, with the stunned wide green eyes, and slack mouth. This seemed like an entirely different person. The face appeared young and fresh, the cheeks not so hollow from lack of eating. There were no bags under his eyes. He looked good. Healthy. He touched his long, wild waves of black hair that felt more like silk. It reached down to the bottoms of his shoulder blades. It still looked a little wild, but not sticking up all over like it did whenever it was short. He pushed his bangs back, and was shocked to see that the lightening bolt scar was still there! For all intents and purposes, it would seem he'd jumped into another body, but he still had the scar? Harry looked for all the other scars on his body and was stunned to see that those scars were still there as well. What did it mean? He thought he'd taken over another Harry's body, but maybe not? Maybe whatever brought him to this different world and time changed his body just enough to avoid looking suspicious. After all, when he died his body certainly wasn't in very good condition. It seemed perfectly logical that magic would help solve that problem. Deciding it was time to shower, he pulled off the clothes he'd been sleeping in and turned the shower on.

After he was finished and dressed, Harry figured it was time to see if he could still use his magic. It was obvious he didn't have his wand, but he was trained a bit in wandless. He was feeling very grateful for all the training he'd received over the years for his showdown with Voldemort, all things considered. Instead of having a nervous breakdown, like he felt he was damn well entitled to at this point, he was thinking things over logically and keeping his cool. Hermione would be so proud.

Seating himself at the kitchen table, Harry quickly began testing himself.

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The ringing of a phone broke Harry from the remarkable progress he'd made in testing his magic. It would seem that he was able to perform perfectly fine without his wand, he wasn't even tired like he usually had been whenever he would perform the simplest of spells wandlessly.

Getting up, Harry did a mad search for the phone as it kept ringing.

"Hello?" Harry was breathless by the time he'd located it.

"Harry? You okay? You sound out of breath." The man- Dean- sounded worried, which was apparently his default mode when it came to Harry.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just had to run for the phone. What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying later than I intended. Got some more work to do before I can call it a night."

"Okay. Uh, do you still want me to save you some dinner then?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Alright, anything in particular you feel like eating?" Harry hoped Dean would tell him, because he seriously had no idea what to make for the guy.

"Anything you decide to make is good. I'll see 'ya later."

"Right." Harry ended the call as Dean did the same.

So, dinner. What the hell did an obvious health nut find acceptable to eat?

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Thanks for the reviews everyone! I hope you enjoy this story.
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Destinies