Fic: Try-Something Tuesday - [II » part 4]
Title: Try-Something Tuesday
Author: almaasi
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, background Sam/Jess
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU. Fluff, romance, porn.
Word Count: 48,400 words
Warnings: Explicit sex. References to childhood abuse.
Summary: Human AU. Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not?
Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...
☆★☆
Charlie laid out plastic bin liners on Castiel’s and Dean’s seats in the mini-bus, and Dean thanked her and said it would also be totally appreciated if she took care of his kids while he headed into the washroom to wipe the mud out of his eyes. She rolled her eyes, but of course she said yes.
The bathroom was dingy and grey, the air smelt like stale pee and pine trees, as well as bleach. Dean dragged himself up to the mirror, going to wash his face while he waited for the only cubicle to be free.
The toilet inside flushed, and Dean glanced up to see Castiel heading for him, smiling as he turned on the tap right beside Dean.
Castiel looked like he’d been dipped in chocolate and then had his face licked clean. Dean snorted as he looked at their combined reflection, because he looked about the same.
“What a day, huh?” Dean muttered, leaning down to splash cold water on his face. There was no hot water here, and there seemed to be grit in this supply. He winced as his eyes stung, and he hoped they wouldn’t swell up, since he needed to drive.
“Indeed.”
Castiel blinked at his reflection as he washed his hands, then lifted his cupped palm to pour a handful of water over his head.
“There’s good showers back at the school,” Dean offered, watching Castiel attempt to scrub brown muck out of his usually perky hair. “Water pressure’s marvellous, and the heat doesn’t change. It’s awesome, even first thing in the morning.”
“You seem to know a lot about them. Do you get covered in mud often?” Castiel was smirking, one eye closed to prevent the rivulet of watery dirt going in.
Dean chuckled and dried his hands on a paper towel, followed by his face while he talked. “I can’t really afford hot showers as often as I need them. At least at the school it’s free. But you gotta clean your pubic hair outta the plughole, or the janitor comes down on you something fierce. Learned that one the hard way.”
Castiel laughed into the towel he scrubbed his own face with, then glanced over at Dean as he chucked the rumpled paper into the trash. “I’m sorry you can’t afford it, though. I’m the same. Although,” he said, tipping his head in a shrug, “I do tend to splash out on one-time things. Wide-screen television. A piano.”
“You play?” Dean prompted, gesturing Castiel to the open door of the bathroom.
“As a hobby. I’m not much good. I can play ‘Chopsticks’ and the theme tune from The Simpsons.”
Dean’s knees felt a bit weak as he laughed. Castiel chuckled too, but Dean barely heard it through the cakey layer of mud in his ears, as well as the echo of his own laughter.
Dean leant on the door frame to the bathroom, just smiling at the other man. “Hey, Cas, you wanna go wait in the mini-bus?” he suggested, giving a quick wave to Sarah as she passed by.
“Are you okay?”
Dean blinked at Castiel. “What? Oh, yeah. No, I’m just... uh. Pee shy.”
Castiel’s lips screwed up as he tried to hold in his laugh, but he couldn’t, and he sniggered in Dean’s face.
“I’m not kidding, it’s a legit thing!” Dean snapped back, rolling his eyes as Castiel slapped him on the shoulder. But thankfully Castiel left, and Dean only stood there for a moment, unable to stop smiling.
Castiel was really, really good at making him smile, and that too was a fact.
❖
The ride back was quiet. Dean didn’t dare put any music on, and instead just listened to the rumble of the heavy engine as he drove back to the school.
Every single one of the kids was exhausted, and they all zonked out after only a few minutes, staring blankly out of the window or steadily falling asleep.
Dean would have assumed that was just a kid thing to do, but a glance in the rear-view mirror let him know that Castiel has slumped back in his seat too, eyes closed, mouth open.
Well, ain’t he a little angel, Dean thought to himself, delighted at how relaxed Castiel looked. Dean knew it was kind of a given, but he felt proud that Castiel trusted his driving enough that he could snooze.
They were back at the school faster than Dean expected, and he mused that any journey back always seemed shorter.
He thumped his hand on the inside roof of the bus to wake his passengers, and he grinned as Castiel snorted himself back upright, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads, your parents are waitin’.”
Dean leapt out of the van first, and in the same way as in the morning, he high-fived all the kids as they dragged their feet off the lowest step and into the parking lot.
“Did you all have fun today?” he called to them as they assembled haphazardly, backpacks half-off their shoulders and heavy-lidded eyes being rubbed at.
“Yes, Mr. Winchester...”
“And I think we all have a big thank you to say to someone, don’t we?” Dean hinted, smirking at the way Castiel shifted his feet as he leaned back against the bus.
“Thank you Mr. Godson,” the kids chimed.
Dean settled for that, pleased that his class were still hanging around, even though a crowd of parents hovered at the other end of the parking lot. “All right. Make sure you tell your parents all the cool stuff you did today. And―” The kids started dispersing, sprinting for waving adults. “And if your parents aren’t waiting over there, come back here right away, you hear me?!”
Castiel hummed a laugh as Dean slumped his shoulders, since all the children were out of earshot now. Dean would have gone up to mingle with the parents, but given that he was covered in mud from head to toe, he didn’t think it would give the right impression. Most of the mud had dried, and he felt crunchy.
“Your drive all right?” Charlie asked, swaying up to Dean’s side. Charlie had overtaken Dean’s van halfway down the highway, and it looked like her group had already disbanded.
“Yeah, was good. Mr. Godson here fell asleep,” Dean grinned, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.
“Aww.” Charlie was smirking cheerfully, not even being subtle as she lifted her camera and took a flash photo of the muddy teachers.
Dean blinked away the bright light, and then turned to look at Castiel, who shot him an amused expression.
“Your eyes were closed, Mr. Godson,” Charlie said, chuckling. “Let’s go again.”
Castiel sighed, pushing himself off the bus and going to stand at Dean’s side. “I’m not the most photogenic of people.”
Another flash; this time the light made Dean grimace and grunt.
“What are the chances...” Charlie shook her head as she looked at the screen on the back of the camera. “Dean, you’re fine; you’re practically a model. God knows how you do it, since you literally look like shit.”
Castiel laughed, the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes darkening as crisp mud folded into his skin.
“Here - c’mere,” Dean muttered, swinging an arm around Castiel’s lower back. He smiled at him as Castiel blinked, head turned to peer at Dean with something akin to surprise in his eyes. “Close your eyes, Cas, and on three, open them. And Charlie can snap away.”
Castiel set his lips together, looking at the raised camera again with an unimpressed glare. “Fine.”
“Close,” Dean instructed. Castiel closed his eyes.
Dean was meant to look at the camera, but for a second or so, all he could do was look at the way Castiel’s face cleared of stress entirely, and Dean noticed the fact that Castiel leaned into his arm as it held him.
“Three, two, open up―”
The flash made Dean groan, dropping his arm away from Castiel to pinch his eyelids shut with his grubby hands. Castiel gave a soft laugh, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean leaned into it automatically, opening his eyes to see Castiel smiling at him, blue eyes framed by smears of brown.
“Perfect,” Charlie declared, switching the camera off. “Sarah already took off, and I’m headed the same way. Either of you need a ride?”
Charlie pointedly looked at Castiel, knowing full well that Dean didn’t go anywhere without his Impala, unless he was driving a rental for the school. Dean smiled as Castiel turned her down politely.
“I’m afraid I have another engagement,” he said.
Yeah, Dean thought. An engagement. Like checking out the showers with me.
“Too bad. Hope to see you some other time, then, yeah?” Charlie offered her hand for Castiel to shake, and they did so firmly, with wide smiles on their faces. “Great to meet you, Mr Godson.”
“Please,” Castiel said, letting their hands drop. “Call me―”
He glanced to Dean, and Dean saw The Twinkle.
“Call me Cas.”
Charlie nodded. “Have a great day, then, Cas. See ya, Dean. Let me know how you like tonight’s episode, huh?”
“Will do.”
Dean watched Charlie turn and follow the last remaining parents as they headed for their cars.
“Did she mean Dr. Sexy?” Castiel asked, eyeing Dean while Dean tried to mess with his own itchy hair.
“Yeah, she and I both love it,” Dean nodded, tipping his head to get Castiel to follow him. “You’ve seen all the episodes, right?”
Castiel shrugged as they walked, rattling his backpack as he held it over his shoulder. “I’ve only been watching for a year or so. They don’t do reruns in order, and... well, I prefer to watch them in order.”
“Take it you don’t have a box set.”
Castiel’s smirk returned, reaching the crisp mud by his eyes. “I take it you do?”
“All six seasons,” Dean said proudly. He turned their stride up to the school’s office door, letting Castiel enter first.
The secretary, Jill, waved to Dean as he passed, and he flicked his fingers back at her in greeting. Usually she was a favourite of his to flirt with, but his attention was elsewhere today. Or for the past three weeks, maybe. Dean casually wondered if she’d noticed.
“Those six seasons are quite impressive, given that you have no money.”
“Look who’s talking, Mister Widescreen-Television-and-a-Piano.”
Castiel rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a DVD player; a box set would be rather useless.”
“I have a DVD player.”
“Congratulations,” Castiel said, dryly. Dean just smiled at him, then shoved him gently to direct him towards the men’s locker room.
School was different when there were no children. After the teachers had gone home, after the cleaners had been around and the janitor had locked all but the fire exits, there was something magical that began to grow in the hallways.
That was how Dean saw it, anyway.
“Cas?”
“Hm?”
“You know when you’re the last one left in school at night, marking homework or whatever... and the hall lights are still on, and everything echoes...”
Dean took a breath in, knowing Castiel was looking at him, but not turning to look back. “It’s kinda great, isn’t it? That you’re allowed to be here, ‘cause you’re not the kid... you’re - heh - you’re not someone small. You’re in charge of this place.”
Dean tipped his head down and watched where he was walking, still heading through the classroom’s corridors. Children’s artwork was stapled to the boards on one side, and parent-teacher notices were on the other side, but Dean barely spared them a glance as he passed.
“I dunno,” Dean continued, giving a small shrug. “It’s total control, right? This is my world. Teaching the kids. Being in this environment, it’s... safe, y’know?”
“Yes,” Castiel said, very, very quietly. “Yes, that’s how I feel about the library. That’s why I stay late, and I let everyone else go home first.”
Dean looked up at him then, watching a set of lockers pass by like a blur as he focused on Castiel’s muddy face.
Castiel swallowed, and Dean realised it was to cover emotion, rather than because he needed to.
“I didn’t―” Castiel sighed, glancing away for a moment as Dean turned them around a corner, and the floor changed from hard-wearing carpet to terracotta tiling. “I didn’t have an easy time growing up. There wasn’t a place to be... quiet. Or alone.”
Dean huffed, without humour. “Same.”
Castiel raised his gaze, and their eyes met. “I was raised in foster care, with six other children. None of us had anything in common, and, to put it mildly, my property was not respected. When I have the chance to care for... books, or children...”
“You make up for a lot, huh.” Dean smiled at him sadly, for once able to say that he knew exactly what that was like. “I never got adopted. Me and Sammy took off before I was eighteen, and we jumped from place to place so we wouldn’t get pulled in. We’d get separated, and―”
“And you wouldn’t want that,” nodded Castiel. “I understand.”
The two of them had slowed their walk without realising, and Dean glanced around him, blinking. “Yeah.”
Castiel’s lips twitched in a smile, and Dean mirrored it.
“Do you think you’d ever have kids of your own?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “Just out of curiosity.”
Castiel laughed quietly, his gaze falling to Dean’s hand as he adjusted his grip on his backpack strap. “I think I would adopt.”
“Right,” Dean said. “Like... with someone, or... just on your own?”
Castiel looked Dean in the eye, and Dean saw a glimmer, but it wasn’t the same as usual. It wasn’t sad, or hopeful. It was just there.
Castiel didn’t even answer him.
“I assume this is where we’re headed,” he said, speaking at a normal volume as he turned for the door to the men’s room.
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, letting Castiel go ahead and open the door first. “It’s not much, but it’s better than home.”
Castiel went straight for the empty benches that were situated between two sets of lockers, and he dumped his bag.
On the right of the locker room, three shower heads protruded from the wall, each separated by a shoulder-high partition, coloured maroon. The whole place was tiled in creamish-white, and the far side of the room had a set of wide, frosted windows that let the afternoon sun in perfectly, filling the deserted space with warm light. There was no need for electric lights, so Dean didn’t even bother groping for the string as he entered.
Castiel was already peeling his gross anorak from his shoulders as Dean went to stand opposite him, putting his own bag down beside Castiel’s.
“I’m gonna stink like mud for a week,” Dean complained, wincing as he removed his coat and probably a layer of skin, too.
“Do you have soap?”
Dean hummed a thoughtful note, glancing around the locker room. “I left some shampoo in here the other day. Walnut something-or-other.”
“Over there.” Castiel pointed, and Dean followed his gesture until his eyes landed on the line of three bottles left in the corner of one of the shower cubicles.
Dean sighed. “Janitor shifted them again.”
He became distracted for a moment - okay, a long moment, as Castiel wriggled his arms and lifted his turtleneck sweater over his head, cracking the smashes of mud that Dean had shoved underneath. There was a t-shirt there, but it got stuck to the inside of Castiel’s sweater, and he pulled them off as one item.
Dean stood there with his hands latched onto the hem of his own t-shirt, not yet moving to remove it.
Castiel had a nipple piercing.
Castiel wasn’t looking at Dean, so didn’t see him staring, and just kept on undressing, moving from his boots straight on to his mud-encrusted pants.
Dean blinked back into self-awareness, and hurriedly started tugging things off, tossing his ruined t-shirt into the plastic bag that he’d brought along for emergencies just like this. Then his pants went, and god, Dean could barely think of anything except nipple piercing.
It wasn’t a ring, not a loop. It was the kind that had a bulbous silver head at each side, a straight half-inch of metal that just went through his nipple.
Dean pictured the thing in his mind as he sat down to untie his boot laces, since he couldn’t get his jeans off his ankles until he removed his boots.
Castiel’s nipples were so dark, and stood out against the naturally tanned shade of his skin. As Dean had seen them, they were slightly erect from the chill in the room, just like Dean’s were now. Castiel’s chest was wide, his shoulders broad, his coloured tattoo half-covered by mud.
Dean smiled to himself as he kicked his jeans to the ridged tiles on the floor, then put the stained denim in the bag with his other clothes.
Castiel was pretty fucking hot; there was no denying. Dean had never had any interest in peircings, but now?
Fuck yes.
Dean turned his head as the sound of hissing water reached his ears. His breath caught as he saw Castiel ahead of him in the centre cubicle, his face to the wall, bare ass fully visible to Dean.
Dean didn’t usually have such a breath-hitchy reaction to people’s butts, but this one belonged to the dude that Dean made have an orgasm. That was... Jesus, it was crazy, but he loved it.
It was a good butt.
Dean stood up, ignoring the subtle rise that was making his boxer-briefs a bit too tight. He tucked his hands under the waistband and pulled them to the floor, then threw them in the bag.
He made his way to the shower to the left of Castiel’s, his eyes never leaving the round, full muscles of Castiel’s ass.
The bottles of shower gel were neatly set underneath the partition, and Castiel turned his head to smile at Dean as Dean headed up to his own shower.
“Nice of you to join me,” Castiel said. His eyelashes were darker under the shower flow, and Dean saw gems of water stuck to them, like tiny stars.
“Nice of you to save me a spot,” Dean replied, tipping his chin up as he turned the silver handle to make the water flow. The stream splashed straight down his chest, and he sighed, eyes falling shut. “Any other man would expect me to take the cubicle a space away from you, but you took the one in the middle of three.”
Castiel grinned into the water that fell on his face, and he snorted, then shook his head like a dog and sent muddy water flicking across Dean’s face.
“Any other man wouldn’t be in need of shampoo so dearly,” came Castiel’s tart reply. “You do realise you and I have to share the soap, don’t you?”
Dean chuckled, dipping his head under the stream and exhaling as the half-dry crown of mud started to ease out of his hair. “Yeah, I know, man. I’m just messing.”
Castiel smiled over at him, then turned his face into the water again.
They washed in silence for some time. Mud was incredibly resilient, it turned out. Even after two large handfuls of soap, Dean’s hands were still coming away brown when he dragged his fingers down his calves.
“Thank god we were wearing clothes, right?” Dean muttered, hearing his voice echo a little in the tiled room. “If we’d been naked there’d be a hell of a lot more mess to clean up.”
Castiel made a half-amused noise. “I must thank you for the extra mud you decided would suit my midriff.”
“Yeeeah.” Dean chuckled out loud, winking at Castiel over the partition. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re not sorry at all.”
“Ahh, you got me.”
Castiel bent down to grab another squirt of shampoo, and tipped his head out of the water to lather it up. He kept his eyes closed as he did that, and Dean only restrained himself for about five seconds before he leaned a few inches closer to the divider.
Those inches were enough to let him see that goddamn nipple piercing, and he just stood there while Castiel rinsed his hair. Dean’s eyes lingered. Soap bubbles washed over Castiel’s nipple, and the metal changed the path of the foam, made it flow around.
Dean touched his own nipples, and wondered if he could ever suffer the pain of getting a bar put in. He loved to touch there - hell, his own soapy fingers were making him just a bit harder down there, even now - but it had to be better with a spike through it, right?
“Cas, can I ask you something?”
Castiel opened one eye, screwing up his face as he tried to look at Dean while keeping the soap out of his eyes. “Of course.”
“Uh. Nipple piercing?”
Castiel bumped his eyebrows, then glanced down at it. Dean leaned his shoulder on the partition so he could look at Castiel looking at it, because something about him looking at himself was... ugh, it was good.
Castiel always seemed to be surprised when Dean noticed, and this was no exception.
“Oh, that. Yes.” Castiel glanced at Dean, and Dean’s eyes flicked back to his face, trying to pretend he hadn’t just been wondering what it would be like to watch Castiel touch it. Castiel shrugged. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
“I’ll say,” Dean grinned, standing up straight again and scrubbing at the grime between his fingers.
They fell into silence again, and Dean made a breakthrough with the mud on his legs, no longer having to scrape his skin with his fingernails before his hands came away clean. He got to work on his hair after that, dolloping out more shampoo than he’d ever used at one time in his entire life - at least, on purpose.
It was only when Dean was pleased at the fact that his hair squeaked when he tugged it, that he heard something quite different to the regular splashes and elbow-knocks on the partition that he’d been hearing this whole time.
Dean looked over to see Castiel looking down, and first he wondered if he was playing with the nipple piercing, but then... Castiel bit on his lower lip, releasing it to breathe out in a rush, then gasping silently.
Dean heard the slap of flesh, saw Castiel’s shoulder shifting.
“Cas, are you jerking off?” Dean asked, in total disbelief.
“Shhhhhh,” Castiel said. “It’s been a long day.”
Dean was grinning before Castiel had even said the words.
The water was flowing across Castiel’s cheekbones, pulling his near-black hair to a point on his forehead. Rivulets poured down his clean shoulders, and his biceps were dotted with collected water, where they’d been out of the shower stream for a while.
Dean was most definitely hard; he didn’t even need to look down to check. He just stared at the other man.
Then he edged closer, lips parting.
He leant his entire right side on the cool plastic of the partition, eyes dropping from Castiel’s steaming hair to the working muscles in his left shoulder. Then Dean tipped his chin over the partition, eyes drawing further down.
Nipple. Stomach. Pubic hair, free of mud. Cock.
Dean’s lip slid between his teeth, and his hand went to his own dick, just for a single, excruciatingly slow tug. The water had made his skin hot, and the feel of himself under his wrinkled finger pads was crazy-good.
Castiel’s breathing wasn’t laboured, but light, almost hyperventilating. His eyes were still closed, the very tip of his tongue resting on his bottom lip. He looked beautiful. His skin was flushed and sore from scrubbing, and he seemed to be glowing from the inside out due to the pleasure he was feeling.
“Dean, are you watching me?” A smile quirked up the side of Castiel’s lips.
“No,” Dean retorted, drawing back under his own shower head and feeling its warmth encase him again, soaking his chilled skin.
Castiel chuckled, his deep, low laugh reverberating against the ceramic tiles. He didn’t say anything in reply, but opened his eyes a crack to locate the shower tap. Dean heard it squeak, then the water dripped to nothing above Castiel’s head, and the sound of his breath was just that much more noticeable.
Dean kept on staring, through the glittering haze of water that poured over his head. He was trying to hide his face, but it took no more than a few seconds to realise that Castiel knew perfectly well that he’d been watching. And Castiel didn’t care.
Dean’s eyelids fluttered as he shut his own water off. He breathed out, then removed his hand from between his legs to wipe water out of his eyes. Then he went right back to touching, because the sound of Castiel’s huffs were so obvious now that his excited exhales were like fumes in the air, intoxicating.
Castiel groaned quietly at the back of his throat, his chin rising to stretch his neck out. Dean could hear the sound of his slapping hand so clearly; wet skin, wet hand, maybe some body wash to help him along...
Castiel stopped panting for a moment, slipping his lip between his teeth, breathing hard through his nose instead. Dean heard the slip of his hand upping the pace, as well as seeing his body rocking just a tiny bit more, swayed by how his arm moved.
Dean figured... well.
Cas and him had already screwed. They’d seen each other naked, and hard. They’d made each other come. They’d had their fallouts, but they were cool now, as far as Dean could see. What was the danger in... walking over...?
Dean swung around the partition and slowly turned his way into the next cubicle along, his eyes descending the firm lines and beautiful colour of Castiel’s toned back. That round, masculine ass. Dean just wanted to bite it, fucking hell.
He approached slowly, toes curled against the warm tiles. They were gritty underfoot, both from the tiles’ usual gripping ridges, and from the mess of watered-down mud that Castiel had spread around.
Castiel moaned, shoulders slipping an inch lower as something inside him relaxed, unwinding.
Cas had it right, Dean thought. Jerking off was a good way to let it all go at the end of a long day. But jerking off, while watching another dude jerk off...?
Dean put a hand on the small of Castiel’s back, and Castiel hummed a note and turned around, leaning against the far partition so Dean could get in against the left.
Dean smiled at him, and put his back against the partition he’d been peering over only a minute before.
Then his eyes drifted down from Castiel’s face, bypassing his pierced nipple to look directly at his cock. His hand was tight around it, his legs were spread apart as he leaned back. Dean started to jerk himself faster, because his head was pounding faster, and his heart was throbbing hard with excitement.
This wasn’t like the first time. This wasn’t new the same way it was three weeks ago, when Dean licked up his first taste of pre-come, or when he felt how it was to have two cocks in his hand instead of just one.
This time, it wasn’t about Dean trying something untested. It wasn’t Try-Something Tuesday, not today. This time, it was all about Castiel.
It was about the way his eyes were dark, because he was getting off on watching Dean touch himself too. It was about the fact that Castiel hiked his right leg up against the water pipe on the wall, because he wanted Dean to look at the way his ballsack was pulled up tight, round and cute.
Dean saw how much Castiel was enjoying this. His cock was glistening with liquid, and it wasn’t shower gel, nor water. It spread over his hand as his fist slid down then up, tugging all the way to the tip so his foreskin covered over his slit, before he dragged his grip all the way to his base, pausing for a second or two to massage his scrotum.
They breathed out of time, Dean inhaling as Castiel huffed a tiny sound, and then the same the other way. Dean leant back, feet steady on the ground, and simply enjoyed the fuck out of this.
This wasn’t live porn. He wasn’t getting off to this because at last, another man was hard and feeling pleasure because Dean was naked too. Dean liked this because it was Castiel.
This man wasn’t an ordinary librarian. He was the answer to Dean’s past, and Dean hoped to god that he was in his future, too. Dean had never met another person he could see eye-to-eye with so easily. Nobody else knew what it meant when he let himself be beaten in a fight; Castiel knew it. Castiel knew Dean was sorry before he’d even said it.
Nobody else in Dean’s adult life had ever known how crap foster care was.
Or known what it meant to love something and have it taken away.
Dean didn’t know what had happened to Castiel’s parents, but the fact that he was hurled into the system was story enough. It meant he was alone. Just like Dean.
But at least Dean had Sammy.
Castiel whispered out a broken word, eyes half-shut, lips wet and parted. Dean sighed in response, opening his mouth wide so he could make a show of running his tongue soft and smooth across the corner of his lips. Castiel saw it and groaned, head falling back.
His right leg was still hitched against the water pipe, one hand holding tight so he didn’t slip. Dean had never seen a person stand like that and look good, but fuck, Castiel did it just fine.
Castiel shut his mouth then, and let his leg drop back to the floor. Dean looked at him questioningly as he stepped forward, but Castiel only smiled and went for the water control, pulling the lever up and letting a fresh stream descend like sparkles between them.
Dean felt the heat of it on his legs, and he stood up, shoulder touching Castiel’s in the small space.
Castiel’s warm, wet hand slid over Dean’s forearm, dragging him closer. He went willingly, not even surprised as Castiel’s mouth found his without difficulty.
It was so hot.
The spray hit their cheeks as their faces were turned to each other, and their lips worked slowly, gracefully, the sounds of smacking mouths and tongues lost into the pounding of the water as it cascaded onto Dean’s face.
The rays of sun in the locker room coloured the insides of Dean’s eyelids a warm red, and the splatter of sharp droplets hitting his closed lids made bright dots appear in his sheltered vision.
Castiel groaned into Dean’s cheek, tongue prodding as their heads switched sides, neither of them even needing to look.
Dean’s hand found the head of Castiel’s cock nudging his own, and he automatically let his grip slide from his cock to Castiel’s, surrounding Castiel’s own fist as they jacked together. Castiel’s lips pulled apart as he puffed out a pleasured breath. Then he leaned in for another surging kiss as he let go, moving his hand to pump Dean’s member in return.
Dean pulled in closer. Their hips bumped, the heat between them sloshing across their skin, their moving hands sending up spray in every direction.
Dean moaned, long and restless, eyes peeking open so he could see the flush on Castiel’s cheeks, even through the blur of water.
Then Castiel sighed through his nose, and broke the kiss to turn the water off. The sound of drips filled Dean’s mind for a moment before the cold of the air hit him, and his immediate reaction was to stand closer to Castiel. He was like a beacon of heat, radiating sexual warmth and welcome, just the same way his kisses did.
But Castiel wiped his eyes with his hands, then looked up into Dean’s face. The sparkle in his eyes was so permanent now that Dean barely noticed it.
Castiel shoved Dean up against the partition. Dean’s back thumped the plastic so hard it wobbled and creaked; the top of it hit his shoulder blades, and he cried out in pain, but Castiel gave no apology. His mouth covered Dean’s furiously, working him hard and fast under his hand, under his lips. Dean became weak at the knees, helpless while Castiel pushed into him, body rocking against his so tightly that he had to remove his hand from between them.
Those hands went to grip Dean’s wrists, holding them to the partition like shackles while Castiel’s lips kissed Dean into a frenzy, wanting, wanting, reaching for more.
Dean was groaning under his breath, blinking away the beads of water that still layered his eyelashes. Castiel made no sound, only forced himself against Dean, cocks rutting desperately, Castiel’s hips not moving up and down, but humping into him, crushing Dean backwards as their dicks pushed together. The water made them slip a little, and made the silk-soft skin of their members ripple as they hit.
Dean felt a rush of pleasure, and before he knew it, he’d taken Castiel unawares, gripped his wrists in return, and thrown him against the next partition. He kissed him just as passionately, wanting to bite down on his lip but knowing from last time that Castiel didn’t like that. Castiel was again silent... until Dean lowered his head, kissing down his throat.
Castiel let his head be tipped back, allowed Dean to hold his wrists down. But as soon as Dean’s head dropped to his clavicle, started placing kiss after tiny kiss down... down...
Castiel’s mouth opened, and he moaned so savagely that Dean looked up to check that he was okay. Castiel’s eyes were on Dean, so very dark that he barely had any blue left in them at all.
“K- Keep going,” Castiel whispered, his throat so tight that his words were strained. “Please, m- my nipple...”
Dean had to swing a hand to his own cock to squeeze, holding back an orgasm that threatened to arrive before he was ready. Jesus fucking Christ, goddamn nipple piercing.
Dean lowered his eyes to the nipple in question. There was a brown freckle an inch above it, and the skin around it was goose-bumped from the lack of hot water; it was shining with miniscule droplets, and the muscle looked so tender that Dean couldn’t help but lean his mouth towards it.
The tip of his tongue flicked out, catching the silver attachment and simply bumping it.
Castiel grabbed Dean’s shoulders, fingernails digging hard into his skin. He started hyperventilating, eyes only dark, dark slits as they watched Dean watch his reaction.
“Don’t stop, Dean, please... again.”
Dean kept his eyes on Castiel’s as he set his mouth open, gentle and wet, over the whole nipple.
His tongue lapped, tasting nothing but human skin, maybe the smallest amount of walnut shampoo, but he could barely focus to figure it out. Castiel was trembling, not from the cold, but from terrible pleasure, his breath coming ragged and uneven as he whimpered.
“Dean... oh, De―”
Dean started to suckle.
“Dean... Dean, fucking... oh no, no, I can’t... Please, please - oh, give me more...”
Dean obliged, tipping his head, changing the angle of his tongue, licking and twisting, making the metal tilt against Castiel’s flesh. Under his tongue, Dean felt the rise of the central bud, feeling the pucker turn puffy, then tighten again, the expanse of Castiel’s skin flushing hot, getting hotter as Castiel lost it completely.
“Oh god. Oh god. Dean, you fucking - Christ, I can’t take this. Dean, I can’t take it, I’m going, I’m going―”
Dean’s mouth swept from Castiel’s nipple to his mouth in an instant, taking his lips into the most sensitive kiss they’d ever shared; Dean’s lips were sore, his tongue buzzing from the feel of metal under it. Mouth felt different from nipple, strange almost, and Dean kissed like he was new to it, like it was the first time he’d felt a tongue against his own. Like he’d never had stubble rough on his swollen lips. Like he’d never made love to Castiel before.
Dean kissed Castiel away with a soft breath, the sound of their lips breaking apart like a caress all of its own.
“Don’t come yet,” Dean whispered, nosing Castiel’s cheek. He nuzzled him again, smiling at the give under his nose, at the way Castiel nosed him back. They rubbed faces for a moment like cats, Castiel’s tongue dipping to taste Dean’s skin.
“You’ve made me all slimy,” complained Castiel, his tone obviously joking, but severely covered by the gritty low note in his voice. He was steeped in lust, and it had affected his voice so much that the deep sound of it made Dean’s cock twitch. He could feel Castiel’s soft moan through his chest, in his heart.
Castiel blinked himself into a more active state, then turned to the shower again, letting a gentle flow pour down over Dean’s back.
“After you,” Castiel said, nudging Dean in the direction of the water.
Dean stepped into it, sighing as his cold skin was flooded over with heat once more. Castiel pushed him out of the stream after a moment, and Dean watched him rub his own nipple, saw the way his breath caught, and watched his free hand sliding to the erection that still protruded from between his legs.
“I think we’ve used enough water,” Dean muttered, slapping the lever down and making Castiel huff in annoyance. “C’mere, I wanna get off already.”
“I thought you might like to tease,” Castiel replied, smiling as Dean cupped his hips and pulled him close, starting a gentle rocking motion so their members rubbed.
“Teasing is one thing, but letting it go on too long is another. Fuck... Cas, I just wanna see you come already, can you really blame me?”
“What does my face look like when I come?” Castiel murmured the question to Dean’s neck, lips touching a soft kiss there.
Dean smirked. While the image of the first climax he’d made Castiel have was still burned into his retinas, he wanted to do it again. “Let’s see, shall we?”
Castiel smirked and let Dean separate their bodies, and they each took hold of the other’s cock. Dean started slow, but Castiel’s eyes flicked down, watching his own faster fist as it slapped between Dean’s cockhead and his scrotum.
Dean closed his mouth and moaned, swaying on his feet, affected by the feelings that swam inside him from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet, jumping like physical sparks in his blood and behind his eyes.
“Are you close?” Castiel asked quietly, kissing Dean’s lips once.
“Uh-huh,” Dean replied, putting a kiss exactly the same onto Castiel’s lips.
Castiel groaned a long note, eyelashes tickling on Dean’s jaw. “You look so surprised when you come, Dean. As if you weren’t expecting it to be―”
“That good,” Dean finished. “Last time we did this? Yeah. I’d gone in... fuck... not expecting anything more than just - ah! - just a kiss, and I get you? Not gonna lie, I was surprised. Sti- Still surprised.”
“You keep saying that,” Castiel said, a questioning lilt in his voice. “You keep saying you have me. That you’ve ‘got’ me.” Castiel swallowed, and he paused for a moment. Dean heard him breathe out, felt his hot breath on his bare shoulder. “Dean, what do you mean by that?”
Dean moved his head so he could put a long, long, sweet kiss on Castiel’s mouth. No tongue, no movement. Just lip to lip, and Castiel didn’t try to change it.
“It means...” Dean lowered his eyes as he moved his lips apart, but letting their mouths rest together. “It means what I say. I’ve got you. I’m not― Ugh, Cas.”
It meant he wasn’t going to let go. He had something good here, and he’d already felt what it was to lose it. Dean didn’t want to lose him again.
Fact: Dean was a chicken when it came to love.
“I think I know,” Castiel whispered, eyes open. “Dean, it’s okay.”
Dean shook his head. He couldn’t say a word, not about this.
“Cas, I’m gonna come. Gonna c―”
Dean drew in a sharp, cold breath as the rush of climax surged up through him, peaking at his hips, the tension in the base of his spine shooting across. He cried out, eyes snapping shut, lips finding Castiel’s without any effort at all.
Castiel kissed him through it, lips rolling, tongue searching his mouth the same way it had for their very first kiss. As if he’d find Dean’s secrets inside.
Dean shuddered as he broke the kiss, exhaling over his slick lips and feeling the air ghost on his own flesh.
“Now you,” Dean said, nosing Castiel’s throat. “C’mon. I’ve got you.”
Castiel chuckled, his laughter rumbling against Dean’s chest. “There it is again.”
“I mean it. I’ve got you. You can come, Cas. I’m right here.”
Castiel whispered a hushed word of nonsense against Dean’s ear, his damp, cold hair fluttering under Castiel’s breath. “Go faster?”
Dean let his hand move faster, as Castiel wanted. Pre-come slicked half of his hand, and he twisted his grip so it spread further, making it glide easier, lessening the amount Castiel’s loose skin moved.
“You got such a pretty cock, Cas,” Dean muttered, licking his lips. His eyes jumped from Castiel’s curled-up toes on the tiles, to the perfect V-dip of his muscular hipbones, then to the reddened, rock-hard cock that filled Dean’s hand.
“Mmmh, tha...nk...”
Dean smirked at Castiel’s discomposed expression, and the rumpled, shiny hair that was mussed up by Castiel’s own hand, as he dragged his hand through it like a comb.
“Oh, Dean, just like that.”
Dean was palming the head of Castiel’s cock now, and he was pleased that Castiel liked that. His slit was leaking hot fluid onto the heel of Dean’s hand, and he massaged into it, coating the pink flesh under Castiel’s foreskin. Dean knew it must feel like heaven, since Cas was uncut, unlike Dean. Dean wished he knew how good that must feel, to have a man’s hand on the most delicate, basic part of him.
Castiel certainly enjoyed it.
“Deee...an... Mmm, yes― Yes...” Castiel’s grip on Dean’s shoulders was getting tighter, his palms flat and taut, fingers pressing dents into Dean’s skin. Dean could feel Castiel shivering, and not only from the cold.
Dean had an idea, and he grinned to himself.
Ducking his head, he leaned his chin up and put his teeth around Castiel’s nipple piercing. He tugged on it - just the teeniest, tiniest amount.
Castiel’s mouth fell open, and he growled out a primal sound that made Dean grin, loving how much Castiel was loving it.
Dean felt the warmth on his hand the second he looked down. Castiel was coming as he cried out; spurts of whiteness spread over Dean’s fist, seeping across his skin and dripping to the tiles below. It was a thinner fluid than Dean’s own, and clearer, but it spilled out just as eagerly, and Dean breathed calm sighs as he watched Castiel’s peak continue.
Finally Castiel squawked into silence, and Dean kept pumping, squeezing tighter and tighter until the very last droplet came free, running over the back of Dean’s hand.
“Ouuh...” Castiel moaned, knees bending. Dean slipped his hands around to the dip of the other man’s back, holding him steady.
“There,” Dean said, with theatrical relief. “Like I told you, I got you.”
“Y- mmm, Dean...”
Dean chuckled, putting his lips to Castiel’s, then blindly moving to turn on the water. The shower spluttered into life again, and Dean and Castiel just stood there under its warmth for a moment, sighing into each other’s mouths, heads tipping to each side.
Dean loved the way Castiel kissed. So much.
Castiel stood up straight at last, regaining some composure. They grinned at each other through the falling water, then made quick work of washing off, needing to do nothing more than rinse down. Castiel turned the shower off with a final thump, and there was a distinctly satisfied smile on his face as he turned away from Dean and marched for the bench where they’d left their backpacks and dirty clothes.
Dean stood in silence for a few seconds, just taking the time to think and focus on the fact that right now, he was happy. Properly, actually... happy.
He followed Castiel, and then followed his lead in digging out his clean change of clothes from his bag. As well as clothes, they had a towel each, since it had only been common sense to bring one.
Dean rubbed his hair dry first, thinking he should probably condition it when he got home, or it would dry funny and probably never be the same again.
Castiel was naked opposite him, and Dean could look at him, run his gaze across his nipples, admire the tight cut of his hips, and his strong thighs, and know that Castiel knew he was looking, and Dean didn’t have to worry that he’d be judged.
For all the years Dean had kept it a secret, never seeking out another man out of fear... This made it worth it. This moment, now. Because he’d found a man whom it was okay to look at. Okay to touch. To kiss, to lick, to suckle.
He’d found Castiel, and that was a good thing. Fact.
They put on clean socks, then smiled at each other as they each pulled their regular shoes out of their bags at the same time. Castiel had his cowboy boots (Dean had no idea how he’d fit them in the bag, after carrying everything else as well), and Dean had his usual work boots: trusty, hard-wearing leather things.
Dean turned his back, sat down, and did up his laces. While he did that, he wondered if he should ask Castiel to join him for tonight’s episode of Dr. Sexy. But that would be a date. They’d both know it, for sure. Dean didn’t think it was right for him and Castiel to sit down and date. Neither of them were like that. At least, Dean wasn’t.
If Dean ended up with someone, when he gained a friend for life, it shouldn’t be via a date. What use were dates, when so much in Dean’s life was cosmic? It seemed too simple. Too normal.
Castiel and him weren’t normal, not a regular set of people. Yeah, it was an egotistic thought, but if there was ever something that was special about Dean, he knew it was his ability to truly love the people he cared about. To find so much of a similar love with Castiel today, while having adventures, and then sit down and date? That wasn’t the way to go.
Dean didn’t know where to go from here.
Castiel did though, it seemed. “I hope we meet again sometime soon, Dean,” he said, warmly, from beside where Dean sat staring into space.
“What? You’re leaving?”
Castiel’s smile only lasted a second. “I don’t meant to present a repeat of last time, but yes. My family is what you might call a disaster; I tend to have to act as mediator. Right now there’s a lawsuit going on between two of my brothers, I need to get back to dealing with that.”
“Lawsuit?”
“Oh,” Castiel grinned, “Nothing serious. One of them parked on the other’s property.”
Dean blanched. “Uh.”
Castiel stepped back, hauling his bags with him. “Like I said. Disaster.” He shrugged, still backing away. “But in any case, I will be catching up with Dr. Sexy tomorrow night. Perhaps we could... arrange a time to discuss it.”
Dean snorted, standing up and straightening his spare jeans across his thighs. “Sure.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester. I... had a good time today.”
“Me too.”
Dean and Castiel locked eyes, Castiel very nearly at the door.
“Goodnight, Cas.”
Castiel smiled, and Dean didn’t see the smile leave his face at all before the door smacked shut between them.
Dean was smiling too, and that smile definitely didn’t leave his face until he fell asleep that night.
« part 3 | masterpost | part 5 »
☆★☆
Author: almaasi
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, background Sam/Jess
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU. Fluff, romance, porn.
Word Count: 48,400 words
Warnings: Explicit sex. References to childhood abuse.
Summary: Human AU. Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not?
Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...
☆★☆
Charlie laid out plastic bin liners on Castiel’s and Dean’s seats in the mini-bus, and Dean thanked her and said it would also be totally appreciated if she took care of his kids while he headed into the washroom to wipe the mud out of his eyes. She rolled her eyes, but of course she said yes.
The bathroom was dingy and grey, the air smelt like stale pee and pine trees, as well as bleach. Dean dragged himself up to the mirror, going to wash his face while he waited for the only cubicle to be free.
The toilet inside flushed, and Dean glanced up to see Castiel heading for him, smiling as he turned on the tap right beside Dean.
Castiel looked like he’d been dipped in chocolate and then had his face licked clean. Dean snorted as he looked at their combined reflection, because he looked about the same.
“What a day, huh?” Dean muttered, leaning down to splash cold water on his face. There was no hot water here, and there seemed to be grit in this supply. He winced as his eyes stung, and he hoped they wouldn’t swell up, since he needed to drive.
“Indeed.”
Castiel blinked at his reflection as he washed his hands, then lifted his cupped palm to pour a handful of water over his head.
“There’s good showers back at the school,” Dean offered, watching Castiel attempt to scrub brown muck out of his usually perky hair. “Water pressure’s marvellous, and the heat doesn’t change. It’s awesome, even first thing in the morning.”
“You seem to know a lot about them. Do you get covered in mud often?” Castiel was smirking, one eye closed to prevent the rivulet of watery dirt going in.
Dean chuckled and dried his hands on a paper towel, followed by his face while he talked. “I can’t really afford hot showers as often as I need them. At least at the school it’s free. But you gotta clean your pubic hair outta the plughole, or the janitor comes down on you something fierce. Learned that one the hard way.”
Castiel laughed into the towel he scrubbed his own face with, then glanced over at Dean as he chucked the rumpled paper into the trash. “I’m sorry you can’t afford it, though. I’m the same. Although,” he said, tipping his head in a shrug, “I do tend to splash out on one-time things. Wide-screen television. A piano.”
“You play?” Dean prompted, gesturing Castiel to the open door of the bathroom.
“As a hobby. I’m not much good. I can play ‘Chopsticks’ and the theme tune from The Simpsons.”
Dean’s knees felt a bit weak as he laughed. Castiel chuckled too, but Dean barely heard it through the cakey layer of mud in his ears, as well as the echo of his own laughter.
Dean leant on the door frame to the bathroom, just smiling at the other man. “Hey, Cas, you wanna go wait in the mini-bus?” he suggested, giving a quick wave to Sarah as she passed by.
“Are you okay?”
Dean blinked at Castiel. “What? Oh, yeah. No, I’m just... uh. Pee shy.”
Castiel’s lips screwed up as he tried to hold in his laugh, but he couldn’t, and he sniggered in Dean’s face.
“I’m not kidding, it’s a legit thing!” Dean snapped back, rolling his eyes as Castiel slapped him on the shoulder. But thankfully Castiel left, and Dean only stood there for a moment, unable to stop smiling.
Castiel was really, really good at making him smile, and that too was a fact.
❖
The ride back was quiet. Dean didn’t dare put any music on, and instead just listened to the rumble of the heavy engine as he drove back to the school.
Every single one of the kids was exhausted, and they all zonked out after only a few minutes, staring blankly out of the window or steadily falling asleep.
Dean would have assumed that was just a kid thing to do, but a glance in the rear-view mirror let him know that Castiel has slumped back in his seat too, eyes closed, mouth open.
Well, ain’t he a little angel, Dean thought to himself, delighted at how relaxed Castiel looked. Dean knew it was kind of a given, but he felt proud that Castiel trusted his driving enough that he could snooze.
They were back at the school faster than Dean expected, and he mused that any journey back always seemed shorter.
He thumped his hand on the inside roof of the bus to wake his passengers, and he grinned as Castiel snorted himself back upright, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads, your parents are waitin’.”
Dean leapt out of the van first, and in the same way as in the morning, he high-fived all the kids as they dragged their feet off the lowest step and into the parking lot.
“Did you all have fun today?” he called to them as they assembled haphazardly, backpacks half-off their shoulders and heavy-lidded eyes being rubbed at.
“Yes, Mr. Winchester...”
“And I think we all have a big thank you to say to someone, don’t we?” Dean hinted, smirking at the way Castiel shifted his feet as he leaned back against the bus.
“Thank you Mr. Godson,” the kids chimed.
Dean settled for that, pleased that his class were still hanging around, even though a crowd of parents hovered at the other end of the parking lot. “All right. Make sure you tell your parents all the cool stuff you did today. And―” The kids started dispersing, sprinting for waving adults. “And if your parents aren’t waiting over there, come back here right away, you hear me?!”
Castiel hummed a laugh as Dean slumped his shoulders, since all the children were out of earshot now. Dean would have gone up to mingle with the parents, but given that he was covered in mud from head to toe, he didn’t think it would give the right impression. Most of the mud had dried, and he felt crunchy.
“Your drive all right?” Charlie asked, swaying up to Dean’s side. Charlie had overtaken Dean’s van halfway down the highway, and it looked like her group had already disbanded.
“Yeah, was good. Mr. Godson here fell asleep,” Dean grinned, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.
“Aww.” Charlie was smirking cheerfully, not even being subtle as she lifted her camera and took a flash photo of the muddy teachers.
Dean blinked away the bright light, and then turned to look at Castiel, who shot him an amused expression.
“Your eyes were closed, Mr. Godson,” Charlie said, chuckling. “Let’s go again.”
Castiel sighed, pushing himself off the bus and going to stand at Dean’s side. “I’m not the most photogenic of people.”
Another flash; this time the light made Dean grimace and grunt.
“What are the chances...” Charlie shook her head as she looked at the screen on the back of the camera. “Dean, you’re fine; you’re practically a model. God knows how you do it, since you literally look like shit.”
Castiel laughed, the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes darkening as crisp mud folded into his skin.
“Here - c’mere,” Dean muttered, swinging an arm around Castiel’s lower back. He smiled at him as Castiel blinked, head turned to peer at Dean with something akin to surprise in his eyes. “Close your eyes, Cas, and on three, open them. And Charlie can snap away.”
Castiel set his lips together, looking at the raised camera again with an unimpressed glare. “Fine.”
“Close,” Dean instructed. Castiel closed his eyes.
Dean was meant to look at the camera, but for a second or so, all he could do was look at the way Castiel’s face cleared of stress entirely, and Dean noticed the fact that Castiel leaned into his arm as it held him.
“Three, two, open up―”
The flash made Dean groan, dropping his arm away from Castiel to pinch his eyelids shut with his grubby hands. Castiel gave a soft laugh, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean leaned into it automatically, opening his eyes to see Castiel smiling at him, blue eyes framed by smears of brown.
“Perfect,” Charlie declared, switching the camera off. “Sarah already took off, and I’m headed the same way. Either of you need a ride?”
Charlie pointedly looked at Castiel, knowing full well that Dean didn’t go anywhere without his Impala, unless he was driving a rental for the school. Dean smiled as Castiel turned her down politely.
“I’m afraid I have another engagement,” he said.
Yeah, Dean thought. An engagement. Like checking out the showers with me.
“Too bad. Hope to see you some other time, then, yeah?” Charlie offered her hand for Castiel to shake, and they did so firmly, with wide smiles on their faces. “Great to meet you, Mr Godson.”
“Please,” Castiel said, letting their hands drop. “Call me―”
He glanced to Dean, and Dean saw The Twinkle.
“Call me Cas.”
Charlie nodded. “Have a great day, then, Cas. See ya, Dean. Let me know how you like tonight’s episode, huh?”
“Will do.”
Dean watched Charlie turn and follow the last remaining parents as they headed for their cars.
“Did she mean Dr. Sexy?” Castiel asked, eyeing Dean while Dean tried to mess with his own itchy hair.
“Yeah, she and I both love it,” Dean nodded, tipping his head to get Castiel to follow him. “You’ve seen all the episodes, right?”
Castiel shrugged as they walked, rattling his backpack as he held it over his shoulder. “I’ve only been watching for a year or so. They don’t do reruns in order, and... well, I prefer to watch them in order.”
“Take it you don’t have a box set.”
Castiel’s smirk returned, reaching the crisp mud by his eyes. “I take it you do?”
“All six seasons,” Dean said proudly. He turned their stride up to the school’s office door, letting Castiel enter first.
The secretary, Jill, waved to Dean as he passed, and he flicked his fingers back at her in greeting. Usually she was a favourite of his to flirt with, but his attention was elsewhere today. Or for the past three weeks, maybe. Dean casually wondered if she’d noticed.
“Those six seasons are quite impressive, given that you have no money.”
“Look who’s talking, Mister Widescreen-Television-and-a-Piano.”
Castiel rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a DVD player; a box set would be rather useless.”
“I have a DVD player.”
“Congratulations,” Castiel said, dryly. Dean just smiled at him, then shoved him gently to direct him towards the men’s locker room.
School was different when there were no children. After the teachers had gone home, after the cleaners had been around and the janitor had locked all but the fire exits, there was something magical that began to grow in the hallways.
That was how Dean saw it, anyway.
“Cas?”
“Hm?”
“You know when you’re the last one left in school at night, marking homework or whatever... and the hall lights are still on, and everything echoes...”
Dean took a breath in, knowing Castiel was looking at him, but not turning to look back. “It’s kinda great, isn’t it? That you’re allowed to be here, ‘cause you’re not the kid... you’re - heh - you’re not someone small. You’re in charge of this place.”
Dean tipped his head down and watched where he was walking, still heading through the classroom’s corridors. Children’s artwork was stapled to the boards on one side, and parent-teacher notices were on the other side, but Dean barely spared them a glance as he passed.
“I dunno,” Dean continued, giving a small shrug. “It’s total control, right? This is my world. Teaching the kids. Being in this environment, it’s... safe, y’know?”
“Yes,” Castiel said, very, very quietly. “Yes, that’s how I feel about the library. That’s why I stay late, and I let everyone else go home first.”
Dean looked up at him then, watching a set of lockers pass by like a blur as he focused on Castiel’s muddy face.
Castiel swallowed, and Dean realised it was to cover emotion, rather than because he needed to.
“I didn’t―” Castiel sighed, glancing away for a moment as Dean turned them around a corner, and the floor changed from hard-wearing carpet to terracotta tiling. “I didn’t have an easy time growing up. There wasn’t a place to be... quiet. Or alone.”
Dean huffed, without humour. “Same.”
Castiel raised his gaze, and their eyes met. “I was raised in foster care, with six other children. None of us had anything in common, and, to put it mildly, my property was not respected. When I have the chance to care for... books, or children...”
“You make up for a lot, huh.” Dean smiled at him sadly, for once able to say that he knew exactly what that was like. “I never got adopted. Me and Sammy took off before I was eighteen, and we jumped from place to place so we wouldn’t get pulled in. We’d get separated, and―”
“And you wouldn’t want that,” nodded Castiel. “I understand.”
The two of them had slowed their walk without realising, and Dean glanced around him, blinking. “Yeah.”
Castiel’s lips twitched in a smile, and Dean mirrored it.
“Do you think you’d ever have kids of your own?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “Just out of curiosity.”
Castiel laughed quietly, his gaze falling to Dean’s hand as he adjusted his grip on his backpack strap. “I think I would adopt.”
“Right,” Dean said. “Like... with someone, or... just on your own?”
Castiel looked Dean in the eye, and Dean saw a glimmer, but it wasn’t the same as usual. It wasn’t sad, or hopeful. It was just there.
Castiel didn’t even answer him.
“I assume this is where we’re headed,” he said, speaking at a normal volume as he turned for the door to the men’s room.
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, letting Castiel go ahead and open the door first. “It’s not much, but it’s better than home.”
Castiel went straight for the empty benches that were situated between two sets of lockers, and he dumped his bag.
On the right of the locker room, three shower heads protruded from the wall, each separated by a shoulder-high partition, coloured maroon. The whole place was tiled in creamish-white, and the far side of the room had a set of wide, frosted windows that let the afternoon sun in perfectly, filling the deserted space with warm light. There was no need for electric lights, so Dean didn’t even bother groping for the string as he entered.
Castiel was already peeling his gross anorak from his shoulders as Dean went to stand opposite him, putting his own bag down beside Castiel’s.
“I’m gonna stink like mud for a week,” Dean complained, wincing as he removed his coat and probably a layer of skin, too.
“Do you have soap?”
Dean hummed a thoughtful note, glancing around the locker room. “I left some shampoo in here the other day. Walnut something-or-other.”
“Over there.” Castiel pointed, and Dean followed his gesture until his eyes landed on the line of three bottles left in the corner of one of the shower cubicles.
Dean sighed. “Janitor shifted them again.”
He became distracted for a moment - okay, a long moment, as Castiel wriggled his arms and lifted his turtleneck sweater over his head, cracking the smashes of mud that Dean had shoved underneath. There was a t-shirt there, but it got stuck to the inside of Castiel’s sweater, and he pulled them off as one item.
Dean stood there with his hands latched onto the hem of his own t-shirt, not yet moving to remove it.
Castiel had a nipple piercing.
Castiel wasn’t looking at Dean, so didn’t see him staring, and just kept on undressing, moving from his boots straight on to his mud-encrusted pants.
Dean blinked back into self-awareness, and hurriedly started tugging things off, tossing his ruined t-shirt into the plastic bag that he’d brought along for emergencies just like this. Then his pants went, and god, Dean could barely think of anything except nipple piercing.
It wasn’t a ring, not a loop. It was the kind that had a bulbous silver head at each side, a straight half-inch of metal that just went through his nipple.
Dean pictured the thing in his mind as he sat down to untie his boot laces, since he couldn’t get his jeans off his ankles until he removed his boots.
Castiel’s nipples were so dark, and stood out against the naturally tanned shade of his skin. As Dean had seen them, they were slightly erect from the chill in the room, just like Dean’s were now. Castiel’s chest was wide, his shoulders broad, his coloured tattoo half-covered by mud.
Dean smiled to himself as he kicked his jeans to the ridged tiles on the floor, then put the stained denim in the bag with his other clothes.
Castiel was pretty fucking hot; there was no denying. Dean had never had any interest in peircings, but now?
Fuck yes.
Dean turned his head as the sound of hissing water reached his ears. His breath caught as he saw Castiel ahead of him in the centre cubicle, his face to the wall, bare ass fully visible to Dean.
Dean didn’t usually have such a breath-hitchy reaction to people’s butts, but this one belonged to the dude that Dean made have an orgasm. That was... Jesus, it was crazy, but he loved it.
It was a good butt.
Dean stood up, ignoring the subtle rise that was making his boxer-briefs a bit too tight. He tucked his hands under the waistband and pulled them to the floor, then threw them in the bag.
He made his way to the shower to the left of Castiel’s, his eyes never leaving the round, full muscles of Castiel’s ass.
The bottles of shower gel were neatly set underneath the partition, and Castiel turned his head to smile at Dean as Dean headed up to his own shower.
“Nice of you to join me,” Castiel said. His eyelashes were darker under the shower flow, and Dean saw gems of water stuck to them, like tiny stars.
“Nice of you to save me a spot,” Dean replied, tipping his chin up as he turned the silver handle to make the water flow. The stream splashed straight down his chest, and he sighed, eyes falling shut. “Any other man would expect me to take the cubicle a space away from you, but you took the one in the middle of three.”
Castiel grinned into the water that fell on his face, and he snorted, then shook his head like a dog and sent muddy water flicking across Dean’s face.
“Any other man wouldn’t be in need of shampoo so dearly,” came Castiel’s tart reply. “You do realise you and I have to share the soap, don’t you?”
Dean chuckled, dipping his head under the stream and exhaling as the half-dry crown of mud started to ease out of his hair. “Yeah, I know, man. I’m just messing.”
Castiel smiled over at him, then turned his face into the water again.
They washed in silence for some time. Mud was incredibly resilient, it turned out. Even after two large handfuls of soap, Dean’s hands were still coming away brown when he dragged his fingers down his calves.
“Thank god we were wearing clothes, right?” Dean muttered, hearing his voice echo a little in the tiled room. “If we’d been naked there’d be a hell of a lot more mess to clean up.”
Castiel made a half-amused noise. “I must thank you for the extra mud you decided would suit my midriff.”
“Yeeeah.” Dean chuckled out loud, winking at Castiel over the partition. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re not sorry at all.”
“Ahh, you got me.”
Castiel bent down to grab another squirt of shampoo, and tipped his head out of the water to lather it up. He kept his eyes closed as he did that, and Dean only restrained himself for about five seconds before he leaned a few inches closer to the divider.
Those inches were enough to let him see that goddamn nipple piercing, and he just stood there while Castiel rinsed his hair. Dean’s eyes lingered. Soap bubbles washed over Castiel’s nipple, and the metal changed the path of the foam, made it flow around.
Dean touched his own nipples, and wondered if he could ever suffer the pain of getting a bar put in. He loved to touch there - hell, his own soapy fingers were making him just a bit harder down there, even now - but it had to be better with a spike through it, right?
“Cas, can I ask you something?”
Castiel opened one eye, screwing up his face as he tried to look at Dean while keeping the soap out of his eyes. “Of course.”
“Uh. Nipple piercing?”
Castiel bumped his eyebrows, then glanced down at it. Dean leaned his shoulder on the partition so he could look at Castiel looking at it, because something about him looking at himself was... ugh, it was good.
Castiel always seemed to be surprised when Dean noticed, and this was no exception.
“Oh, that. Yes.” Castiel glanced at Dean, and Dean’s eyes flicked back to his face, trying to pretend he hadn’t just been wondering what it would be like to watch Castiel touch it. Castiel shrugged. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
“I’ll say,” Dean grinned, standing up straight again and scrubbing at the grime between his fingers.
They fell into silence again, and Dean made a breakthrough with the mud on his legs, no longer having to scrape his skin with his fingernails before his hands came away clean. He got to work on his hair after that, dolloping out more shampoo than he’d ever used at one time in his entire life - at least, on purpose.
It was only when Dean was pleased at the fact that his hair squeaked when he tugged it, that he heard something quite different to the regular splashes and elbow-knocks on the partition that he’d been hearing this whole time.
Dean looked over to see Castiel looking down, and first he wondered if he was playing with the nipple piercing, but then... Castiel bit on his lower lip, releasing it to breathe out in a rush, then gasping silently.
Dean heard the slap of flesh, saw Castiel’s shoulder shifting.
“Cas, are you jerking off?” Dean asked, in total disbelief.
“Shhhhhh,” Castiel said. “It’s been a long day.”
Dean was grinning before Castiel had even said the words.
The water was flowing across Castiel’s cheekbones, pulling his near-black hair to a point on his forehead. Rivulets poured down his clean shoulders, and his biceps were dotted with collected water, where they’d been out of the shower stream for a while.
Dean was most definitely hard; he didn’t even need to look down to check. He just stared at the other man.
Then he edged closer, lips parting.
He leant his entire right side on the cool plastic of the partition, eyes dropping from Castiel’s steaming hair to the working muscles in his left shoulder. Then Dean tipped his chin over the partition, eyes drawing further down.
Nipple. Stomach. Pubic hair, free of mud. Cock.
Dean’s lip slid between his teeth, and his hand went to his own dick, just for a single, excruciatingly slow tug. The water had made his skin hot, and the feel of himself under his wrinkled finger pads was crazy-good.
Castiel’s breathing wasn’t laboured, but light, almost hyperventilating. His eyes were still closed, the very tip of his tongue resting on his bottom lip. He looked beautiful. His skin was flushed and sore from scrubbing, and he seemed to be glowing from the inside out due to the pleasure he was feeling.
“Dean, are you watching me?” A smile quirked up the side of Castiel’s lips.
“No,” Dean retorted, drawing back under his own shower head and feeling its warmth encase him again, soaking his chilled skin.
Castiel chuckled, his deep, low laugh reverberating against the ceramic tiles. He didn’t say anything in reply, but opened his eyes a crack to locate the shower tap. Dean heard it squeak, then the water dripped to nothing above Castiel’s head, and the sound of his breath was just that much more noticeable.
Dean kept on staring, through the glittering haze of water that poured over his head. He was trying to hide his face, but it took no more than a few seconds to realise that Castiel knew perfectly well that he’d been watching. And Castiel didn’t care.
Dean’s eyelids fluttered as he shut his own water off. He breathed out, then removed his hand from between his legs to wipe water out of his eyes. Then he went right back to touching, because the sound of Castiel’s huffs were so obvious now that his excited exhales were like fumes in the air, intoxicating.
Castiel groaned quietly at the back of his throat, his chin rising to stretch his neck out. Dean could hear the sound of his slapping hand so clearly; wet skin, wet hand, maybe some body wash to help him along...
Castiel stopped panting for a moment, slipping his lip between his teeth, breathing hard through his nose instead. Dean heard the slip of his hand upping the pace, as well as seeing his body rocking just a tiny bit more, swayed by how his arm moved.
Dean figured... well.
Cas and him had already screwed. They’d seen each other naked, and hard. They’d made each other come. They’d had their fallouts, but they were cool now, as far as Dean could see. What was the danger in... walking over...?
Dean swung around the partition and slowly turned his way into the next cubicle along, his eyes descending the firm lines and beautiful colour of Castiel’s toned back. That round, masculine ass. Dean just wanted to bite it, fucking hell.
He approached slowly, toes curled against the warm tiles. They were gritty underfoot, both from the tiles’ usual gripping ridges, and from the mess of watered-down mud that Castiel had spread around.
Castiel moaned, shoulders slipping an inch lower as something inside him relaxed, unwinding.
Cas had it right, Dean thought. Jerking off was a good way to let it all go at the end of a long day. But jerking off, while watching another dude jerk off...?
Dean put a hand on the small of Castiel’s back, and Castiel hummed a note and turned around, leaning against the far partition so Dean could get in against the left.
Dean smiled at him, and put his back against the partition he’d been peering over only a minute before.
Then his eyes drifted down from Castiel’s face, bypassing his pierced nipple to look directly at his cock. His hand was tight around it, his legs were spread apart as he leaned back. Dean started to jerk himself faster, because his head was pounding faster, and his heart was throbbing hard with excitement.
This wasn’t like the first time. This wasn’t new the same way it was three weeks ago, when Dean licked up his first taste of pre-come, or when he felt how it was to have two cocks in his hand instead of just one.
This time, it wasn’t about Dean trying something untested. It wasn’t Try-Something Tuesday, not today. This time, it was all about Castiel.
It was about the way his eyes were dark, because he was getting off on watching Dean touch himself too. It was about the fact that Castiel hiked his right leg up against the water pipe on the wall, because he wanted Dean to look at the way his ballsack was pulled up tight, round and cute.
Dean saw how much Castiel was enjoying this. His cock was glistening with liquid, and it wasn’t shower gel, nor water. It spread over his hand as his fist slid down then up, tugging all the way to the tip so his foreskin covered over his slit, before he dragged his grip all the way to his base, pausing for a second or two to massage his scrotum.
They breathed out of time, Dean inhaling as Castiel huffed a tiny sound, and then the same the other way. Dean leant back, feet steady on the ground, and simply enjoyed the fuck out of this.
This wasn’t live porn. He wasn’t getting off to this because at last, another man was hard and feeling pleasure because Dean was naked too. Dean liked this because it was Castiel.
This man wasn’t an ordinary librarian. He was the answer to Dean’s past, and Dean hoped to god that he was in his future, too. Dean had never met another person he could see eye-to-eye with so easily. Nobody else knew what it meant when he let himself be beaten in a fight; Castiel knew it. Castiel knew Dean was sorry before he’d even said it.
Nobody else in Dean’s adult life had ever known how crap foster care was.
Or known what it meant to love something and have it taken away.
Dean didn’t know what had happened to Castiel’s parents, but the fact that he was hurled into the system was story enough. It meant he was alone. Just like Dean.
But at least Dean had Sammy.
Castiel whispered out a broken word, eyes half-shut, lips wet and parted. Dean sighed in response, opening his mouth wide so he could make a show of running his tongue soft and smooth across the corner of his lips. Castiel saw it and groaned, head falling back.
His right leg was still hitched against the water pipe, one hand holding tight so he didn’t slip. Dean had never seen a person stand like that and look good, but fuck, Castiel did it just fine.
Castiel shut his mouth then, and let his leg drop back to the floor. Dean looked at him questioningly as he stepped forward, but Castiel only smiled and went for the water control, pulling the lever up and letting a fresh stream descend like sparkles between them.
Dean felt the heat of it on his legs, and he stood up, shoulder touching Castiel’s in the small space.
Castiel’s warm, wet hand slid over Dean’s forearm, dragging him closer. He went willingly, not even surprised as Castiel’s mouth found his without difficulty.
It was so hot.
The spray hit their cheeks as their faces were turned to each other, and their lips worked slowly, gracefully, the sounds of smacking mouths and tongues lost into the pounding of the water as it cascaded onto Dean’s face.
The rays of sun in the locker room coloured the insides of Dean’s eyelids a warm red, and the splatter of sharp droplets hitting his closed lids made bright dots appear in his sheltered vision.
Castiel groaned into Dean’s cheek, tongue prodding as their heads switched sides, neither of them even needing to look.
Dean’s hand found the head of Castiel’s cock nudging his own, and he automatically let his grip slide from his cock to Castiel’s, surrounding Castiel’s own fist as they jacked together. Castiel’s lips pulled apart as he puffed out a pleasured breath. Then he leaned in for another surging kiss as he let go, moving his hand to pump Dean’s member in return.
Dean pulled in closer. Their hips bumped, the heat between them sloshing across their skin, their moving hands sending up spray in every direction.
Dean moaned, long and restless, eyes peeking open so he could see the flush on Castiel’s cheeks, even through the blur of water.
Then Castiel sighed through his nose, and broke the kiss to turn the water off. The sound of drips filled Dean’s mind for a moment before the cold of the air hit him, and his immediate reaction was to stand closer to Castiel. He was like a beacon of heat, radiating sexual warmth and welcome, just the same way his kisses did.
But Castiel wiped his eyes with his hands, then looked up into Dean’s face. The sparkle in his eyes was so permanent now that Dean barely noticed it.
Castiel shoved Dean up against the partition. Dean’s back thumped the plastic so hard it wobbled and creaked; the top of it hit his shoulder blades, and he cried out in pain, but Castiel gave no apology. His mouth covered Dean’s furiously, working him hard and fast under his hand, under his lips. Dean became weak at the knees, helpless while Castiel pushed into him, body rocking against his so tightly that he had to remove his hand from between them.
Those hands went to grip Dean’s wrists, holding them to the partition like shackles while Castiel’s lips kissed Dean into a frenzy, wanting, wanting, reaching for more.
Dean was groaning under his breath, blinking away the beads of water that still layered his eyelashes. Castiel made no sound, only forced himself against Dean, cocks rutting desperately, Castiel’s hips not moving up and down, but humping into him, crushing Dean backwards as their dicks pushed together. The water made them slip a little, and made the silk-soft skin of their members ripple as they hit.
Dean felt a rush of pleasure, and before he knew it, he’d taken Castiel unawares, gripped his wrists in return, and thrown him against the next partition. He kissed him just as passionately, wanting to bite down on his lip but knowing from last time that Castiel didn’t like that. Castiel was again silent... until Dean lowered his head, kissing down his throat.
Castiel let his head be tipped back, allowed Dean to hold his wrists down. But as soon as Dean’s head dropped to his clavicle, started placing kiss after tiny kiss down... down...
Castiel’s mouth opened, and he moaned so savagely that Dean looked up to check that he was okay. Castiel’s eyes were on Dean, so very dark that he barely had any blue left in them at all.
“K- Keep going,” Castiel whispered, his throat so tight that his words were strained. “Please, m- my nipple...”
Dean had to swing a hand to his own cock to squeeze, holding back an orgasm that threatened to arrive before he was ready. Jesus fucking Christ, goddamn nipple piercing.
Dean lowered his eyes to the nipple in question. There was a brown freckle an inch above it, and the skin around it was goose-bumped from the lack of hot water; it was shining with miniscule droplets, and the muscle looked so tender that Dean couldn’t help but lean his mouth towards it.
The tip of his tongue flicked out, catching the silver attachment and simply bumping it.
Castiel grabbed Dean’s shoulders, fingernails digging hard into his skin. He started hyperventilating, eyes only dark, dark slits as they watched Dean watch his reaction.
“Don’t stop, Dean, please... again.”
Dean kept his eyes on Castiel’s as he set his mouth open, gentle and wet, over the whole nipple.
His tongue lapped, tasting nothing but human skin, maybe the smallest amount of walnut shampoo, but he could barely focus to figure it out. Castiel was trembling, not from the cold, but from terrible pleasure, his breath coming ragged and uneven as he whimpered.
“Dean... oh, De―”
Dean started to suckle.
“Dean... Dean, fucking... oh no, no, I can’t... Please, please - oh, give me more...”
Dean obliged, tipping his head, changing the angle of his tongue, licking and twisting, making the metal tilt against Castiel’s flesh. Under his tongue, Dean felt the rise of the central bud, feeling the pucker turn puffy, then tighten again, the expanse of Castiel’s skin flushing hot, getting hotter as Castiel lost it completely.
“Oh god. Oh god. Dean, you fucking - Christ, I can’t take this. Dean, I can’t take it, I’m going, I’m going―”
Dean’s mouth swept from Castiel’s nipple to his mouth in an instant, taking his lips into the most sensitive kiss they’d ever shared; Dean’s lips were sore, his tongue buzzing from the feel of metal under it. Mouth felt different from nipple, strange almost, and Dean kissed like he was new to it, like it was the first time he’d felt a tongue against his own. Like he’d never had stubble rough on his swollen lips. Like he’d never made love to Castiel before.
Dean kissed Castiel away with a soft breath, the sound of their lips breaking apart like a caress all of its own.
“Don’t come yet,” Dean whispered, nosing Castiel’s cheek. He nuzzled him again, smiling at the give under his nose, at the way Castiel nosed him back. They rubbed faces for a moment like cats, Castiel’s tongue dipping to taste Dean’s skin.
“You’ve made me all slimy,” complained Castiel, his tone obviously joking, but severely covered by the gritty low note in his voice. He was steeped in lust, and it had affected his voice so much that the deep sound of it made Dean’s cock twitch. He could feel Castiel’s soft moan through his chest, in his heart.
Castiel blinked himself into a more active state, then turned to the shower again, letting a gentle flow pour down over Dean’s back.
“After you,” Castiel said, nudging Dean in the direction of the water.
Dean stepped into it, sighing as his cold skin was flooded over with heat once more. Castiel pushed him out of the stream after a moment, and Dean watched him rub his own nipple, saw the way his breath caught, and watched his free hand sliding to the erection that still protruded from between his legs.
“I think we’ve used enough water,” Dean muttered, slapping the lever down and making Castiel huff in annoyance. “C’mere, I wanna get off already.”
“I thought you might like to tease,” Castiel replied, smiling as Dean cupped his hips and pulled him close, starting a gentle rocking motion so their members rubbed.
“Teasing is one thing, but letting it go on too long is another. Fuck... Cas, I just wanna see you come already, can you really blame me?”
“What does my face look like when I come?” Castiel murmured the question to Dean’s neck, lips touching a soft kiss there.
Dean smirked. While the image of the first climax he’d made Castiel have was still burned into his retinas, he wanted to do it again. “Let’s see, shall we?”
Castiel smirked and let Dean separate their bodies, and they each took hold of the other’s cock. Dean started slow, but Castiel’s eyes flicked down, watching his own faster fist as it slapped between Dean’s cockhead and his scrotum.
Dean closed his mouth and moaned, swaying on his feet, affected by the feelings that swam inside him from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet, jumping like physical sparks in his blood and behind his eyes.
“Are you close?” Castiel asked quietly, kissing Dean’s lips once.
“Uh-huh,” Dean replied, putting a kiss exactly the same onto Castiel’s lips.
Castiel groaned a long note, eyelashes tickling on Dean’s jaw. “You look so surprised when you come, Dean. As if you weren’t expecting it to be―”
“That good,” Dean finished. “Last time we did this? Yeah. I’d gone in... fuck... not expecting anything more than just - ah! - just a kiss, and I get you? Not gonna lie, I was surprised. Sti- Still surprised.”
“You keep saying that,” Castiel said, a questioning lilt in his voice. “You keep saying you have me. That you’ve ‘got’ me.” Castiel swallowed, and he paused for a moment. Dean heard him breathe out, felt his hot breath on his bare shoulder. “Dean, what do you mean by that?”
Dean moved his head so he could put a long, long, sweet kiss on Castiel’s mouth. No tongue, no movement. Just lip to lip, and Castiel didn’t try to change it.
“It means...” Dean lowered his eyes as he moved his lips apart, but letting their mouths rest together. “It means what I say. I’ve got you. I’m not― Ugh, Cas.”
It meant he wasn’t going to let go. He had something good here, and he’d already felt what it was to lose it. Dean didn’t want to lose him again.
Fact: Dean was a chicken when it came to love.
“I think I know,” Castiel whispered, eyes open. “Dean, it’s okay.”
Dean shook his head. He couldn’t say a word, not about this.
“Cas, I’m gonna come. Gonna c―”
Dean drew in a sharp, cold breath as the rush of climax surged up through him, peaking at his hips, the tension in the base of his spine shooting across. He cried out, eyes snapping shut, lips finding Castiel’s without any effort at all.
Castiel kissed him through it, lips rolling, tongue searching his mouth the same way it had for their very first kiss. As if he’d find Dean’s secrets inside.
Dean shuddered as he broke the kiss, exhaling over his slick lips and feeling the air ghost on his own flesh.
“Now you,” Dean said, nosing Castiel’s throat. “C’mon. I’ve got you.”
Castiel chuckled, his laughter rumbling against Dean’s chest. “There it is again.”
“I mean it. I’ve got you. You can come, Cas. I’m right here.”
Castiel whispered a hushed word of nonsense against Dean’s ear, his damp, cold hair fluttering under Castiel’s breath. “Go faster?”
Dean let his hand move faster, as Castiel wanted. Pre-come slicked half of his hand, and he twisted his grip so it spread further, making it glide easier, lessening the amount Castiel’s loose skin moved.
“You got such a pretty cock, Cas,” Dean muttered, licking his lips. His eyes jumped from Castiel’s curled-up toes on the tiles, to the perfect V-dip of his muscular hipbones, then to the reddened, rock-hard cock that filled Dean’s hand.
“Mmmh, tha...nk...”
Dean smirked at Castiel’s discomposed expression, and the rumpled, shiny hair that was mussed up by Castiel’s own hand, as he dragged his hand through it like a comb.
“Oh, Dean, just like that.”
Dean was palming the head of Castiel’s cock now, and he was pleased that Castiel liked that. His slit was leaking hot fluid onto the heel of Dean’s hand, and he massaged into it, coating the pink flesh under Castiel’s foreskin. Dean knew it must feel like heaven, since Cas was uncut, unlike Dean. Dean wished he knew how good that must feel, to have a man’s hand on the most delicate, basic part of him.
Castiel certainly enjoyed it.
“Deee...an... Mmm, yes― Yes...” Castiel’s grip on Dean’s shoulders was getting tighter, his palms flat and taut, fingers pressing dents into Dean’s skin. Dean could feel Castiel shivering, and not only from the cold.
Dean had an idea, and he grinned to himself.
Ducking his head, he leaned his chin up and put his teeth around Castiel’s nipple piercing. He tugged on it - just the teeniest, tiniest amount.
Castiel’s mouth fell open, and he growled out a primal sound that made Dean grin, loving how much Castiel was loving it.
Dean felt the warmth on his hand the second he looked down. Castiel was coming as he cried out; spurts of whiteness spread over Dean’s fist, seeping across his skin and dripping to the tiles below. It was a thinner fluid than Dean’s own, and clearer, but it spilled out just as eagerly, and Dean breathed calm sighs as he watched Castiel’s peak continue.
Finally Castiel squawked into silence, and Dean kept pumping, squeezing tighter and tighter until the very last droplet came free, running over the back of Dean’s hand.
“Ouuh...” Castiel moaned, knees bending. Dean slipped his hands around to the dip of the other man’s back, holding him steady.
“There,” Dean said, with theatrical relief. “Like I told you, I got you.”
“Y- mmm, Dean...”
Dean chuckled, putting his lips to Castiel’s, then blindly moving to turn on the water. The shower spluttered into life again, and Dean and Castiel just stood there under its warmth for a moment, sighing into each other’s mouths, heads tipping to each side.
Dean loved the way Castiel kissed. So much.
Castiel stood up straight at last, regaining some composure. They grinned at each other through the falling water, then made quick work of washing off, needing to do nothing more than rinse down. Castiel turned the shower off with a final thump, and there was a distinctly satisfied smile on his face as he turned away from Dean and marched for the bench where they’d left their backpacks and dirty clothes.
Dean stood in silence for a few seconds, just taking the time to think and focus on the fact that right now, he was happy. Properly, actually... happy.
He followed Castiel, and then followed his lead in digging out his clean change of clothes from his bag. As well as clothes, they had a towel each, since it had only been common sense to bring one.
Dean rubbed his hair dry first, thinking he should probably condition it when he got home, or it would dry funny and probably never be the same again.
Castiel was naked opposite him, and Dean could look at him, run his gaze across his nipples, admire the tight cut of his hips, and his strong thighs, and know that Castiel knew he was looking, and Dean didn’t have to worry that he’d be judged.
For all the years Dean had kept it a secret, never seeking out another man out of fear... This made it worth it. This moment, now. Because he’d found a man whom it was okay to look at. Okay to touch. To kiss, to lick, to suckle.
He’d found Castiel, and that was a good thing. Fact.
They put on clean socks, then smiled at each other as they each pulled their regular shoes out of their bags at the same time. Castiel had his cowboy boots (Dean had no idea how he’d fit them in the bag, after carrying everything else as well), and Dean had his usual work boots: trusty, hard-wearing leather things.
Dean turned his back, sat down, and did up his laces. While he did that, he wondered if he should ask Castiel to join him for tonight’s episode of Dr. Sexy. But that would be a date. They’d both know it, for sure. Dean didn’t think it was right for him and Castiel to sit down and date. Neither of them were like that. At least, Dean wasn’t.
If Dean ended up with someone, when he gained a friend for life, it shouldn’t be via a date. What use were dates, when so much in Dean’s life was cosmic? It seemed too simple. Too normal.
Castiel and him weren’t normal, not a regular set of people. Yeah, it was an egotistic thought, but if there was ever something that was special about Dean, he knew it was his ability to truly love the people he cared about. To find so much of a similar love with Castiel today, while having adventures, and then sit down and date? That wasn’t the way to go.
Dean didn’t know where to go from here.
Castiel did though, it seemed. “I hope we meet again sometime soon, Dean,” he said, warmly, from beside where Dean sat staring into space.
“What? You’re leaving?”
Castiel’s smile only lasted a second. “I don’t meant to present a repeat of last time, but yes. My family is what you might call a disaster; I tend to have to act as mediator. Right now there’s a lawsuit going on between two of my brothers, I need to get back to dealing with that.”
“Lawsuit?”
“Oh,” Castiel grinned, “Nothing serious. One of them parked on the other’s property.”
Dean blanched. “Uh.”
Castiel stepped back, hauling his bags with him. “Like I said. Disaster.” He shrugged, still backing away. “But in any case, I will be catching up with Dr. Sexy tomorrow night. Perhaps we could... arrange a time to discuss it.”
Dean snorted, standing up and straightening his spare jeans across his thighs. “Sure.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester. I... had a good time today.”
“Me too.”
Dean and Castiel locked eyes, Castiel very nearly at the door.
“Goodnight, Cas.”
Castiel smiled, and Dean didn’t see the smile leave his face at all before the door smacked shut between them.
Dean was smiling too, and that smile definitely didn’t leave his face until he fell asleep that night.
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