[Chapter] Passenger Seat (1/6)
I had a home - three in fact.
home was four walls, and my mother’s smile, and the biggest first aid kit in Brooklyn.
but i lost it.
home was sleeping on the couch, and the kindness of friends, and a strong arm around my shoulders.
but i lost it.
home was blue eyes, and bone-crushing hugs, and stolen kisses that lit my blood on fire.
but i lost it.
can’t you understand that i won’t lose my home again?”
because once is a mistake, twice is an accident, and three times is just irresponsible // c.k
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Castiel wondered if he would be killed by Dean if he came home like this. It was an idle thought as he emptied his last glass of the night, the last of probably way too many. Alex was sitting next to him, arm snaked around his waist and breath ghosting across his neck. It had weirded him out at first, when they'd first started seeing each other, but he was used to it by now. Alex had grown on him, their relationship had grown on him. Maybe more the way that it wasn't quite a relationship.
Yes, he decided, Dean would probably not be happy about it. Dean wasn't supposed to care, he really shouldn't. They weren't even that good of friends anymore, all they did was share a house and split the bills. Often, by the time that Castiel came back from work Dean was already asleep and by the time that Dean went to work, he was still asleep.
Or perhaps not. Maybe they weren't just that. Like Castiel had settled and gotten used to having Alex around, he'd settled into a comfortable partnership with Dean as well. He would cook whenever he had time to so that Dean had something to heat up when he came home. Some nights, especially during the weekends, he'd pick up takeout. His cooking wasn't quite that good - Castiel had the ability of burning eggs or bacon without taking his eyes off the pan - so seeing the take out on the counter was probably a relief for Dean. Dean on his turn, would help with the dishes or do them while Cas was at work. Cleaning was for whoever was at home. Cas would take out the trash and Dean would lock up the house. It was almost a routine.
Castiel sighed, allowing Alex to pull him closer again. He'd put another glass in front of him, one that Castiel drowned quickly. With Alex, his promises always went out of the window within seconds. Part of him had promised himself that he'd go back home after a few drinks, after he had shrugged his week off and felt relaxed again, but then there Alex had been. Seeing Alex so close, seeing him cling to him, it messed with him. And not just with his mind. God, he had missed him.
CASTIEL (01:04 am)
Don’t wait up.
Castiel hoped that Dean wouldn’t go all judging, but part of him knew that he would. Dean knew that Castiel was about as pansexual they came, even if he didn’t quite feel comfortable being out most of the time and with quite a few people that he met outside of the LGBTQIA+ community. So far, he hadn't quite created a problem of it, never really said anything when Cas left with a guy.
Growing up as a hunter’s kid, the first few years in and around Brooklyn and later the entire United States, had helped him realize that it was hardly anything to be proud of. The community wasn’t too appreciative of most other identities than cisgender heterosexual people. Now that he was out of the community and he had turned his back to them, he was more open about it. It still didn’t settle completely okay with him, the way that people sometimes looked at him or the way the slurs hit him. At least he felt comfortable going to gay clubs now, without truly caring who saw him.
“My place?” Alex’s shirt clung to his chest, hugging it in all the right ways and pulling his attention to right where it should be.
“Yes.” He couldn’t even dream of bringing Alex back to the house.
Alex worshiped him in a way that he had missed in it's absence, tongue lapping around his nipples and kissing down his ribs; teasing first and filthy later. Alex knew all his pressure points, knew what drove him mad and what would bring him closer and closer to the edge without even being touched. Cas's skin had always been sensitive, had always been and Alex knew it. He pushed him to a point at which he didn't know if he could take it any more. The pleasure was pooling in his body, coursing through him.
He finally came with his screams half muffled by the pillow, hands grasping at Alex. For the first time in ages pulled far enough out of his mind that the hunter instinct of keep quiet and don’t draw attention to yourself was almost ignored and pushed to the side. He wasn't a hunter, not now. Now he was Castiel the sub that had apparently done something to deserve being taken care of first, something to deserve the tender kisses and the pleasure.
Alex grinned at him as he came down from his high, fingers still gently stroking up and down his side. Castiel knew that he was waiting for him to repay the favor, to become functional again, but he needed a minute. He'd waited too long for this, had waited too long to feel somebody show their love to them in a way that was perhaps a little sick and twisted, a little unconventional. After all, Alex and he weren't lovers. Damned if it didn't feel that way now.
And repay he did. Castiel showed his dom just how bloody much he had missed him in the past couple of months. He slid his hands down his body, fingers teasing, never quite touching. God, the sounds that Alex made as he parted his lips around his cock were ungodly. He hummed around his cock, enjoying the way that Alex grasped at the sheets, fingers tangling in them. The way he whimpered his name made him almost wish that he could take Alex back and do this to him at their house, in the room that he knew, or the bathroom, kitchen, he honestly didn’t care.
He’d missed him, missed that sweet body so damn much. And he wasn’t the only one. He was achingly hard again, just wanting to have him, push him to the edge and show him that he missed him. Alex knew, the little fucker.
“Want you,” he breathed, sliding up to press a filthy kiss to Alex’s lips. He mouthed the words at his neck. “Want to feel you in me.” Alex just grinned as he switched them around, his back pressed into the mattress.
“Whatever you wish for angel.” He was on his back, thighs spread and Alex working to stretch him, teasing him all the while with hands that barely skimmed his skin - as he’d done before and. While one of his hands worked, the other went down to his balls; toying, rolling them around in his hand. As he pulled his other hand free, to get extra lube, Cas whined, ass rolling back to push back onto what wasn’t there.
“Just fuck me already. Jesus. Alex.” Alex lined him up after slicking his cock up and pushed in. It stung, just a little, but that was part of what felt good, part of what he wanted. Cas wanted the stretch and burn. Alex found his rhythm soon enough, hitting his prostate time after time. It was electricity flowing and pooling in his body each time.
“Fuck,” he breathed, heart racing in his chest. “Jesus. Alex. Alex.” And he was gone. Coming all over his chest without even being touched. Alex followed soon, Cas already in a comfortable haze. They both loved the post sex haze, loved cuddling while recovering from their ― let’s admit it, quite often mind-blowing ― orgasms.
No matter how rough their scene had been, they always did.
It was almost good enough to make him forget everything that had been going on with Dean the past couple of weeks, it was almost worth it all. Alex had always been partially no more than a distraction from what had been going on inside his head. Neither Alex nor he was in the illusion that it was anything other than that. They'd met a long time ago and been friends at first, but now, the two of them were friends with benefits at best.
Castiel hated the way that term sounded, as if he was using Alex, but it was the truth. Life on the road got lonely. He'd been hunting pretty much solo for so long that some nights brought him down. He moved around so much that part of him had been scared, had been scared that he'd always been alone. It was the effects of being away so often and not having a home, he knew that. He didn’t need a fancy professor or a friend to tell him that. He’d lived the life long enough.
After having to kill his mother at the age of nineteen, he’d been alone. A few times, he’d crashed on a friend’s couch, but he never had that home that his mother offered. Home could be a person, he realized. Even though they always spoke of a house to call your own, it really wasn’t the house that was your home. At least not for him, it was the person. His mother was that to him, the one who made motel rooms feel like a comfort spot and not a place where you wouldn’t want to be found dead.
Alex had made the road a partial home to him. Had made it feel a little bit more like a warm place instead of a cold hotel room where there was nothing more than a bed and a place to warm some food. Both of them knew what was going on. They would never be more than this, more than an arrangement to have sex and sometimes go out. It wasn't like Castiel didn't like Alex, he did, but not in a romantic way.
He had loved very few people in that romantic way and it always after a long while. He didn't know where that would put him on the scale, but he didn't quite care either. Alex knew that he was broken in a way when it came to romance but didn't say a thing about it. Both of them knew that it would never be more than fucking around and having a blast at night.
God, some nights they had scenes and it was the best. Castiel could get lost in his role as a sub. He could get lost in making things good for Alex, showing him just how much he cared, just how much he loved him. It made him forget all the sorrows in his everyday life, made him forget quite how lonely he really was. They had met up regularly, until Dean had come back into his life and they couldn’t meet up to arrange scenes or allow themselves to prepare for them. Even tonight hadn’t exactly been part of the plan. They had bumped into each other at the café and started talking. Their meetings usually did end up in either of their bedrooms, either making sweet love to each other or going at each other in a frantic race of getting clothes off. Castiel didn’t mind in the slightest. He always felt good after, felt comfortable. Maybe Alex was sort of a home to him.
DEAN (05:00 am)
Dude. Get your ass back home.
DEAN (06:00 am)
Or you know, don’t. whatever.
CASTIEL (07:45 am)
Screw you Dean.
DEAN (07:46 am)
Just get home.
CASTIEL (08:00 am)
You’re such a fucking jerk sometimes you know that?
CASTIEL (08:02 am)
Unless there was a fire or a break in or whatever, I can be out as long as I want. Told you that I’d be out.
DEAN (08:04 am)
Whatever Cas, you do whatever you want.
DEAN (08:04 am)
Next time I worry I won’t text you.