
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1074119.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel, Dean_Winchester, Michael_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Cybersex, Alternate_Universe_-_Human, First_Time, Bottom_Castiel, Fluff
      and_Smut, Kink_Meme
  Collections:
      Supernatural_Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-07 Completed: 2013-12-27 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 7575
****** A Total Disaster, A Perfect Date ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     The best part of Cas' weekends starts on Friday nights, with his
     bedroom door locked, his laptop on his bed, and his clothes strewn
     all over the floor. If he's allowed to hope, it might be the best
     part of Dean's weekends too.
Notes
     Filled for this prompt on the kink meme: "Dean (~24) and Castiel (16)
     meet online, Dean coaxes Cas into jerking off for him. Later
     sometime, Castiel's older brother brings home a friend from work for
     dinner, and it turns out that it's Dean, the same Dean who Cas has
     been having cyber sex with. Awkward!family dinner and maybe Dean and
     Cas get to spend some time alone...?"
***** TGIF *****
JeffersonStarships69 is now online.
Cas beamed and shifted on his bed, not bothering to hide his excitement. He
reached up to fix his webcam, double checking that it wasn't too dark in his
room for him to show up on screen.
Satisfied, he placed his laptop back down on the pile of pillows in front of
him and crossed his legs, then flicked the mouse pointer over to Dean's name, a
mere click away from starting the conversation before a notification was
already flashing on his screen.
A sigh. Dean always beat him to the invite button.
Hello Dean. he typed, tapping the enter key with a grin.
This was always the best part of his weekends, staying up far too late to chat
online while the rest of his family slept on. After five straight days of
getting pushed into metal locker doors, avoiding the seniors like the plague so
they left him alone, and trawling through stacks of homework given by
unforgiving teachers, he couldn't have asked for a better way to unwind.
Dean waved at him from the screen, the movements jarred and laggy as they
always were when Cas started up his computer. He drummed his fingers lightly on
the keys, waiting for the internet connection to fix itself while Dean typed
away on the other side.
sup angel appeared in the chat box a second later, and Cas still couldn't help
the blush that came to his cheeks at the nickname. He was sure Dean could see
it even in the relative dark of the room, judging by the low chuckle that
buzzed through his headphones a moment later.
looks like you missed me, and yes, Dean definitely saw the flush on his face.
Yes. Cas typed back, wishing he looked as composed as he sounded in writing.
Dean had teased him for it before, back when he'd first discovered Cas was
actually just a teenager and not, in fact, quite as 'eighteen and over' as he
was supposed to be. Fortunately for Cas, Dean obviously hadn't seemed to mind
despite the nearly-eight year age gap.
It's very nice to see you. he continued when Dean winked at him but didn't
write anything else. 
same to you
Did you have a good day at work?
lol dont ask
tgif
I agree.
He typed out his next message but hesitated over the 'send' key, fidgeting on
the mattress for a moment.
something on your mind, angel?
Oh, whatever. He sent the message away.
Anything I can do to help?
He watched Dean sit back, and gnawed at his lower lip a little nervously. Did
he say the wrong thing? Usually they chatted a little more than this before it
got too serious.
could be
if you wanna
Cas sat up a little straighter and Dean's warm laugh drifted into his ears
again.
I could take this off for you. Cas lifted the hem of his shirt and looked up at
Dean from under his lashes.
id like that Dean typed back, the reply near-instant.
Cas felt his face heat and quickly looked down to hide it as he took his
headphones off. They'd gotten tangled around him once before, when he'd been
too keen and forgotten they were still on his head, much to his mortification.
Now for the t-shirt. He glanced up at the screen again to check Dean was still
watching, before he pulled the fabric up over his head and folded it up in his
lap. The room was colder than he expected and he shivered, his chest stuttering
with a breath. He saw himself in the corner of the screen, pale chest a stark
contrast to the dark behind him, nipples beginning to peak in the cool air.
nice
Cas flailed his hands over the keys, not sure what to say. 'Thank you' seemed a
little odd.
reckon you could take the rest off too?
Okay. The word was sent away without a second thought.
He shuffled back a little and got up to his knees, then fiddled with the button
on his pants.
wait
put your headphones back on
Cas scrambled to grab them and place them back over his head, heart beating
rabbit-fast with anticipation. Just thinking about Dean's smooth, deep voice
ringing through his ears, while he jerked himself off with slow, leisurely
pulls; it was almost too much.
"Can you hear me?" Dean asked, and Cas couldn't help the little shiver that ran
down his spine.
Yes.
"Turn your microphone on too," he said, pointing to his own, his voice that
perfect level of husky and aroused Cas would never get enough of.
I can't. Everyone's sleeping.
"You don't need to talk, I just wanna hear you. Come on, Cas."
Cas' breath hitched and he rushed to flip the microphone down from his headset.
Then he returned to his unbuttoned trousers, feeling a thrill at the sound of
Dean's soft groan as he let them fall past his thighs.
He pulled gingerly at the waistband of his boxers, unsure whether to continue,
and looked back up at Dean for guidance.
"You hard for me, Cas?"
Oh god, the way Dean said his name. He nodded, crossing his legs just a little
in embarrassment. The thought that Dean could see the outline of his cock
against the material while he knelt up like that made his head spin. He didn't
need to look down to know the material was beginning to tent over his crotch.
"Hey, no need to hide from me. Don't be shy," Dean chuckled, "Can I see?"
They hadn't ever gone this far before, they'd only talked dirty to each other
with hands down their jeans.
Cas swallowed but otherwise, he didn't hesitate for long. He sat back and took
a shaky breath, then worked his boxers down until the head of his cock - now
fully hard - peeked out, and the pull of the silky material over his skin made
him whimper.
After Dean's appreciative little sound on the other side of the monitor, he
fully realised just what a good idea it was to have his microphone turned on.
"Look so good, Cas," Dean breathed, "You're so sensitive, aren't you? Every
touch just sending you crazy?"
Cas nodded, mouth falling just a little open, and reached down to close a fist
over his cock. He was so hard, jerking himself off with Dean's voice in his ear
and Dean's face hovering on the screen in front of him.
He sat up to slide his boxers all the way down to his knees, mewling into the
microphone he was so pleased when Dean made a low mm at the sight.
It took all his willpower to return to the keyboard, tapping out something
quick before he wrapped his fingers back around himself.
Are you doing this too? Touching yourselfwatching m?
He couldn't bring himself to care about the spelling mistakes; he was far too
busy indulging in the sound of Dean's replying groan, a growled "You know I
am."
Cas watched Dean intently on the screen, slowing his strokes until they matched
the pace of Dean's arm flexing under his desk.
"Holy shit, are you --" Dean muttered when he noticed, and Cas wasn't sure if
he was supposed to respond or not. Dean started moving faster, and Cas moaned
in relief as he followed, until Dean abruptly ordered him to stop.
He froze immediately, though his chest still heaved with the exertion and he
let out a frustrated whine.
"Fuck, you're so obedient. Such a good boy for me. Want you to touch your tits
for me, can you do that?" Dean asked, waiting for Cas to reach up with one
shaky hand to stroke over his pebbled nipples. "Yeah, that's it. Give 'em a
little tug."
Cas pinched at one and couldn't help but whimper, the sharp bite of pressure
making his hips jerk up like they were tied with string.
Without realising it, he'd already started stroking himself again, rolling his
thumb over the head at each upward stroke. A shiny drop of pre-come beaded at
the slit, and he swiped a finger over it, knowing Dean would see.
"Taste it, Cas, go on. Just a lick," Dean cooed, the suggestion making Cas'
eyelids flicker wide. He had never...
But at the sight of Dean leaning forward at his computer, watching Cas so
intently with a red flush of his own over his freckles... Cas would have done
anything.
He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the smear from his fingertips,
his tongue darting out to catch the taste. It was strange, a little bitter and
salty, but not so bad.
But Dean's responding groan was the true reward.
"God, you're so perfect. Suck on your fingers a little, yeah, just like
that..." he instructed, voice so husky with arousal it was almost crackling
over the connection. Cas dipped two fingers into his mouth, running his tongue
over them, imagining they were Dean's.
"You ever finger yourself, Cas? Fuck yourself like that while you jerk off?"
Cas' breath came out as a shaky gasp as he nodded, a fierce blush spreading
down to his chest. He was a closeted, hormonal, horny sixteen-year-old. What
did Dean expect?
"You wanna do that for me now, then?" Dean continued, and Cas could have come
just from the image of that alone - sinking down onto his fingers with Dean
leading him every step of the way, or even - oh god - imagining it
wasDean's fingers inside him, brushing over his prostate, making him moan...
He must have moaned out loud too, not just in his thoughts, because he could
hear Dean's soft laugh as he scrambled to pull his boxers down further and
shuffle around on the bed until Dean could see all of him.
When he settled again he was leaning back against the wall on another pillow,
legs spread on either side of the laptop camera so the camera could see
everything from his chest down to his ass.
With one hand still fisted tight around his cock, he reached further down to
trace his saliva-slick fingers around the small furled entrance, prodding in
experimentally. It'd been a while, and it took some time to work himself in up
to the first knuckle, but it was so worth it. He hissed at the slight burn as
his muscles parted around his index and middle fingers, vaguely registering
Dean's breathless encouragement.
It wasn't quite slick enough, with only spit to ease the way, but it felt so
good Cas couldn't bring himself to care. He curled his fingers around inside
himself, relishing the feel of the stretch and the fullness of it as he
searched for that one sweet spot.
It took so long he grew impatient, resorting to thrusting his fingers in and
out in blind abandon as the hand around his cock brought him closer and closer
to the brink. The combination of nerves and arousal, wanting to make Dean feel
good while also so desperate for release... He was dizzy with pleasure, the
overload of sensation with Dean still whispering into his ear and the fireworks
being set off behind his eyes, clenched shut in concentration as he --
All it took was one unexpected jab into his prostate and he was gone, come
spilling out over his stomach as he bit down hard onto his bottom lip. But even
that couldn't entirely mask the wanton moan he let out - "Ngh, Dean!"
He panted and shook through his orgasm until it finally left him, slumping to
the side as he came down from his peak. His fingers stayed where they were
locked inside himself, too exhausted to move except for the small twitches that
still ran through his body.
Dean swore and moved faster, the slick sounds muffled through the headphones
and barely audible beneath Cas' own heaving breaths, until finally - with a
loud bitten-off gasp of his own - he came as well.
A long moment passed as they each sat back, panting and catching their breath.
"That was perfect, Cas. God, you're incredible."
Cas could only manage a quiet, incoherent mumble into his microphone.
It took him a while but he eventually worked up the energy to reach the keys.
I wish you were here.
Dean made a small surprised sound and Cas stared at him through the monitor,
praying he hadn't said something to ruin it all.
But all Dean said in reply was, "Yeah, me too."
And Cas practically purred with pleasure.
***** Dinnertime *****
The following week passed terribly, as it always did.
Cas drudged home from the library where he hid every afternoon until the others
were long gone, his back feeling like it was about to break under the weight of
his schoolbag. There were essays to write, exercises to catch up on, a group
project he'd inevitably have to complete alone, and a bruise the size of an
apple on the back of his elbow from Phys Ed. 
All he wanted was to collapse on his bed and sleep.
No such luck - not that he was surprised. When he dumped his books out onto his
desk, his phone made a beep that was far too happy for his liking.
Colleague coming for dinner tonight.
Cas sighed and slumped into his bed to bury his face in the pillow. He whined
like a boiled kettle. Michael always chose the worst days to invite people
over.
He wouldn't complain about it, of course, at least never to Michael's face.
Ever since their mother moved out of the country years ago and Father
disappeared more-or-less off the face of the planet, it'd fallen to the eldest
brother to take care of their whole family. Cas didn't envy it one bit, not
with Gabriel constantly turning up with the police on his tail, or Inias still
suffering night terrors, or Alfie scared of the toilet flushing, or Balthazar's
endless detentions and parent-teacher meetings, or Anna's habit of running away
from home. 
Another unavoidable part of it was that Michael had to throw himself completely
into his work, including all the horrors of business networking and making good
with the company's senior executives before they all tried to oust him from his
role as acting CEO. And that meant fortnightly family dinners with
frighteningly prim businesswomen and old men who leered at Anna across the
table until Michael pulled them aside for a scolding like a stern headmaster
and they slunk away in apparent shame.
Cas wondered which type it would be tonight.
Either way, there was no hope of wearing his pyjamas to the dinner table
tonight. It was something Michael hated him doing, but usually he could get
away with it. 
There was also no hope of getting any of his work done, not when he now had to
head out to pick Inias up from school and call Balthazar to tell him to take
the bus - texting was a lost cause with that brother - and make sure Gabriel
didn't eat too many sweets before dinner (hilarious, because Gabriel had five
years on him) and then check that Alfie still remembered how to put pants on.
At least he didn't have to worry about Anna, who might either turn up or not.
Okay. he finally texted back. It was going to be a really long night. 
 
 
 
Not everything went off without a hitch, but Alfie was finally fully dressed,
Balthazar was on his way home from school, and Inias looked happy enough
watching cartoons on the couch while Cas cleared out the last of Gabriel's
lolly wrappers from what seemed to be every single surface in the house. 
Exhausted, he was just about to consider taking a quick nap when Michael's car
pulled up in the driveway.
"Michael's home!" Inias called out, as if Cas wasn't standing right there by
the window to see it.
He smoothed down his shirt and went to the door to open it, pausing when he
heard laughter and easy chatter. That didn't sound like the Michael he knew -
usually it was polite water-cooler chuckling, not something that actually
sounded like they were friends.
That was curious indeed.
And then, when he opened the door, Castiel nearly had a heart attack.
That was Dean. Dean as in JeffersonStarships69 Dean, I-get-off-thinking-about-
you-every-night Dean, kind green-eyed freckly burning-hot Dean.
Cas must have looked like a fish, standing there with his mouth flapping open.
Michael, mind occupied as ever, didn't seem to notice, thank the heavens, but
he did nudge Cas aside just a little so they could actually get in through the
door.
"Dean, this is Castiel, my little brother. Castiel, Dean Winchester," Michael
introduced them formally, while Dean stuck a hand out for Cas to shake.
"Nice to meet you," Cas mumbled, still numb, still staring. He took Dean's hand
and Dean squeezed it with a smile - the same smile that greeted him every
Friday night over the internet before they dissolved into dirty talk and dirty
pictures and...
Cas hurried away down the hall, making some excuse about getting him a drink.
He stopped in his bedroom and tried not to bang his head against the wall too
loudly, while Michael made the same introductions for each sibling in
descending order of age, and Dean greeted them all with equal politeness.
Oh Jesus, Dean.
He wanted to crawl down a pit and die.
They must have noticed by that point that Cas never returned with the drink
he'd offered, but Michael didn't come up to his room to remind him, probably
assuming that Cas wanted to be alone for a while before dinner started, as
always.
He could have done his homework while he waited, he thought idly, but he knew
logically that there was no way he'd be able to get anything done with the way
he was hyperventilating right now.
This was awful. Dean was friends with Michael. Actual, real, honest-to-
god friends. Oh god, he probably never wanted to talk to Cas again. 
From his room he could hear them puttering around in the kitchen downstairs,
pots clanging and laughter - mostly Dean's - bubbling up as they talked. Of
course Dean would be the perfect gentleman, insisting on helping to prepare
dinner even though he was the guest, but never in a stuffy over-polite way like
their family always was. No, it'd be genuine and friendly, just like Cas always
imagined when he...
He opened his eyes and looked down sharply, and ground the heel of his hand
into his dick, trying to calm it like some kind of wild animal. Dinner was
going to be impossible.
 
 
When Michael called him down to help set the table, he leapt off his bed with a
groan and stumbled down the stairs, trying very hard not to look like he'd been
tugging at his cock while his entire family and his brother's colleague were
just downstairs mere feet away. But his erection had been utterly impossible to
tame, and he didn't know any other way to make it stop. 
Michael might not have known but Dean must have. Cas caught his eye as he moved
into the kitchen to dig out the cutlery from the drawer. There was no winking,
no knowing smile, but Cas was certain anyway.
They were having pasta bolognese, something simple and easy to cook after a
long day at work. Gathered around the table like a happy little family, Cas
felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb; like everyone who so much as looked
at him would know he'd been letting Dean see him online, naked and horny. He
twirled the spaghetti around his fork and shovelled it into his mouth,
swallowing even though it turned to ash the moment it hit his tongue.
He could remember every moment of the previous weekend, when that fateful
Friday - with one hand around his cock and the other in his ass, showing off
for Dean like he was being paid for it - had seemed to set off something wild
and rebellious in him. Saturday night had been similarly spent, locking himself
in his room while he did everything Dean told him with wanton enjoyment. And so
had Sunday night, making Monday all the more unbearable when they both had to
tear themselves away to their respective real lives.
The memory made him blush, and this time Michael did notice.
"I hope you're feeling alright, Castiel," he said, interrupting the
conversation he was having with Dean to shoot his younger brother a concerned
look.
"I - I'm fine. Just a little warm, that's all."
The tiny raise of Dean's eyebrows seemed to shout across the table I'll bet.
"Make sure you're not falling ill," Michael said conclusively, as if that was
something Cas could control. "We haven't had time to find you a new doctor
yet."
Then he and Dean fell back into another easy conversation, this time about the
overprescription of ineffective antibiotics for viral infections. Meanwhile,
Cas tried very hard to turn his thoughts away from sex and scoff down the pasta
as fast as he could so he could excuse himself.
"So uh, Castiel," Dean said a few minutes later, when Cas had lost track of the
conversation. "I hear you're gonna be a junior soon."
Cas flinched in surprise and almost dropped his fork, the piece of silverware
clattering to the plate as he picked it back up.
"Um, I, yes," he stuttered, "You can call me Cas if you like. Only Michael
calls me Castiel."
"Okay, Cas it is," Dean smiled, and suddenly Cas really, really wished he
hadn't said that. Just hearing Cas in that velvety low voice, it did things to
him. Things that should never ever happen in front of his entire family at the
dinner table. "You enjoying school?"
No, he wasn't, and Dean knew the answer to that already. But Cas glanced at
Michael then back at Dean, and gave the usual stock reply. "It's alright."
Dean chuckled and the sound gave him butterflies. "Yeah, well, two years to go.
Then you can head to college and start earning the big bucks like Michael here,
huh?"
Michael snorted and carried on eating, not needing to mention that Dean earned
the same. Cas wished he could act as normal as Dean at this table, but the fact
of the matter was, there was no way he could stop himself from remembering
exactly how Dean had sounded murmuring into his ear, telling him to move faster
or deeper, calling him a cheeky little tease. He squirmed and crossed his legs.
"Cas doesn't want to be CEO of some big company," Balthazar interrupted with a
mischievous grin. "He's gonna memorise the first thousand digits of pi and
teach maths out of a supply closet."
"Balthazar," Michael warned sternly. Balthazar shrugged and announced that it
was true anyway, then went back to his spaghetti with a friendly nudge-kick
hybrid to Cas' shin, the closest to an apology that he could manage.
Thankfully, after that, the conversation didn't return to Cas. It didn't stop
him from hearing all the familiar rise and falls of Dean's voice, though, the
murmured agreements that sounded far too much like the way he groaned when Cas
did something especially good, or when Cas shyly asked if he could see Dean's
dick.
Dinner only lasted twenty minutes, but by the time they'd all cleared their
plates, it felt like Cas had finished running a twenty-year marathon.
 
 
When they all left the table and Balthazar was relegated to dishwasher duty,
Castiel tried to take the opportunity to scamper away into his room, but
Michael was having none of it. It was rude, he'd said with a disappointed frown
that made Cas feel like an ant under a shoe.
So, having been deemed old enough to make polite conversation with the adults,
he drifted around the living room while Michael and Dean spoke and tried his
best not to think about his dick. Or Dean's, for that matter. Unfortunately
they were talking about classic cars, which he found neither interesting nor
comprehensible, and his mind couldn't help but wander. 
Other than that, everything seemed to be going well until Alfie ran screaming
down the corridor after Inias with cordial spilled all down his shirt.
Michael let out a tired sigh and got up from the couch to investigate before
they killed each other. "Excuse me, I need to sort this out. Castiel, why don't
you go show Dean the garage? I'll be back soon."
And then. They were alone in the room. Cas squirmed and got up from his seat.
"I -- Okay. Um, it's just this way." He scampered away down the hall, not
really checking to see if Dean was following. But he was, because when they
reached the garage, Cas bumped into his chest as he wheeled back to open the
door inward. It took a great deal of effort not to simply collapse onto the
warm body behind him.
The light flickered on, and Cas gestured to the row of cars, shiny metal
glinting at them. Dean let out a low whistle.
"They belong to my father," Cas said with a small shrug. "I don't know what
they're called."
"Not one for cars, huh?" Dean squeezed his shoulder and Cas' stomach flipped.
"No," Cas said apologetically, "But... maybe you could show me what makes them
so nice." It sounded so much smoother in his head. Out loud, he cringed at his
voice as soon as the words left his mouth.
However, it didn't seem to deter Dean one bit, as he smiled wolfishly and
tilted Cas' chin up with two fingers to face him. "Oh, I can show you a lot of
things that make them nice."
Cas' breath shuddered in his chest. He tried to say yes, please, I'd love that
so much but his voice threatened to croak and crack. All he could do was nod
furiously and wipe his palms down on his pants.
Dean led him to the car furthest from the door into the house, while his heart
beat furiously behind his ribs. Any minute now, he was going to wake up and
discover that this was completely a dream. Maybe he was still lying in his bed,
taking that nap, sleeping all the way through Michael's dinner with some boring
office worker. The way it usually happened, they'd be seconds from touching and
all of a sudden the man of his dreams would turn out to be exactly that - a
dream.
But now there was nothing to deny the reality of Dean's hands roaming up across
his arms, fleeting touches barely skimming the surface of his skin. He knew
he'd never be able to invent the way Dean grinned down at him like that,
confident and cautious all at once, always checking Cas' expression.
"Please," Cas begged when Dean's hands left him to open the car door.
"Sure you want this, Cas?" Dean breathed, and oh this was what he'd been
running through his mind for the past week, the way his name sounded on Dean's
voice, mild and teasing and gentle. Cas couldn't groan out a yes fast enough,
practically pushing himself into Dean's arms again.
Dean settled into the long lounge of the back seat in one swift movement and
pulled Cas in over him, hooking the door closed with his foot. The motion had
to be practised, it was so graceful, and Cas felt an irrational spark of
jealousy for everyone else who'd seen Dean like this.
"Are you going to -- Can you -- Please fuck me?" Cas stumbled over his words,
crawling up to straddle Dean's legs in the cramped seat, only remembering the
low roof when Dean's hand came up to protect the crown of his head.
"Do we have time?" Dean returned with another question.
"I, I think so," Cas said as he ground his hips down onto Dean's, unable to
stop the juddering movement and the loud gasp that left his throat. It felt
so good.
He felt Dean's hands untuck his school uniform, sliding warm dry palms up over
his ribs. His own awkward fumbling alone in the dark, the experimental touches
to his own body, they were nothing compared to this. He groaned and tried to
copy the movement on Dean, pulling at the dress shirt that Dean was still
wearing from work, but Dean's hands closed gently over his.
"Let me do this, okay? Wanna make you feel so good," Dean murmured by way of
explanation, nipping at Cas' collarbone. He leaned away and Cas mewled at the
loss of contact, before Dean shoved the material up underneath his arms and
locked his mouth onto Cas' nipples.
Cas almost screamed, only bringing his knuckles up to his mouth in the nick of
time. Oh god, Dean's tongue flicking over the tight nubs, sucking on the skin
in ways that he knew would leave marks for days. There was the lightest brush
of teeth, and Cas yelped, fisting his hands in Dean's hair and pushing his
chest up into the warm heat like he couldn't get enough. Dean made a sound of
surprise but didn't stop, alternating between licking and biting until Cas was
a total mess in his arms.
 "I - I need, please, Dean..." Cas squirmed against Dean, and he
could feel Dean's hardened cock underneath the fabric, so close and so
tempting. Dean released his nipples and brought his hands down to either side
of Cas' waist, thumbs making small circles around the jutting curve of his
hips.
"Lean back," Dean ordered. It took some navigation and a bit of flailing as Cas
lost his balance, but soon he was lying propped against the door, legs held up
around Dean's broad shoulders. He breathed out slowly, revelling in the sight
of Dean above him, the loose grip of Dean's hands around his ankles. 
He didn't need to be told what to do next. His hands scrabbled at his zipper,
and he pulled them down just enough - boxers coming down too in one fell swoop
- to expose his ass as he squirmed below Dean. "Please, please just -- need --"
Dean's finger came up to rest on his lower lip. "Shh, I'll take care of you.
Trust me."
Cas groaned and his hips stuttered back, trying to find contact with Dean
again.
Then Dean leaned down and oh god, that was his mouth on Cas' cock, the wet heat
so utterly incredible to his inexperience that he couldn't stop a wail - one
that only got louder when Dean started sucking too.
It was the feeling of Dean's tongue, a delicious swirl over the head of his
cock at every upward bob, that nearly brought Cas over the edge. He tugged at
Dean's hair, not sure whether to pull him off or try to get more of that
mindblowing pleasure, whimpering.
"I'm gonna come, Dean, I'm --"
As abruptly as it started, the hot pressure was gone. Cas' hips thrust up
without his control, trying to chase the feeling, but Dean held him down with
one firm hand on his belly. He was so close, he wanted so many things, he
wanted Dean inside him any way he could have him and he wanted Dean's mouth
back on his cock and he wanted --
"Not yet," Dean grinned, then lay three fingers at the edge of Cas' lower lip,
offering. Cas opened his mouth and took them in hungrily, licking and sucking,
trying to emulate Dean. This wasn't what he'd imagined at all - it was better,
Dean's long fingers in his mouth, letting him worship and taste as much as he
wanted, with the knowledge of what was about to follow.
When they were soaked in his saliva, Dean withdrew them and leaned down to
cover Cas' mouth in a deep kiss. Cas couldn't help scrunching his hands back in
Dean's hair, trying to bring Dean ever closer, not believing he'd ever get
enough of the man.
The kiss was a distraction, and a successful one - he barely noticed Dean's
fingers at his ass, slipping inside, until they began scissoring him open.
He tore his mouth away to moan and grasp for a handhold above his head, the
feeling almost overwhelming him completely. "D-Dean!"
Dean took that moment to thrust in another finger, and Cas suddenly felt so
full he thought - a little hysterically - he'd die from it. They were so deep
inside him, more than he'd ever been able to manage alone contorted in his bed,
where nothing had ever been before. His legs twitched around Dean's shoulders,
and his muscles spasmed in a desperate attempt to get Dean even further inside.
"So greedy for me, aren't you, so beautiful," Dean babbled into his ear as Cas
took to clawing at the back of that pristine white shirt, a moaning and
squirming mess.
It only took two - three - four more thrusts of Dean's fingers, and Cas had
never come so hard in his life, tossing his head back in a soundless wail.
He lay there bewildered and stunned, unable to do anything except stare at Dean
in incredulous exhaustion, for a long moment.
"That was..." he panted, every blink still a little fluttery with exertion,
"That's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Dean laughed and Cas felt a little silly.
Then he remembered. "Are you - I should - oh, Dean, you're still --" Cas
flailed and sat up, reaching for the zipper on Dean's suit pants. Oh he'd been
so selfish, just taking and taking without seeing to Dean at all, it was awful
-- 
"Hey, no, don't worry about it," Dean said, calming away every attempt by Cas
to get at his still-hard cock. "Next time, hm?"
"Next time?" Cas repeated, the words not quite registering. More of this with
Dean? It couldn't be real, could it?
"If you want." Dean leaned down to peck him on the forehead.
"I --"
Then the doorknob rattled on the other side of the garage.
"Oh shit," Dean swore, while Cas yelped and scrambled to pull his shirt down
and his pants back up. Dean helped him along, all in a mad rush, and they
practically fell all over the garage floor in their panic to get out.
Michael walked down to join them beside the car while Dean was still
surreptitiously flattening his hair back down where Cas had yanked at it so
thoughtlessly.
"Sorry about that," he said in greeting, "You know how kids are."
"Yeah, don't worry, I get it. Must be a handful, you taking care of everyone
like this."
Michael shook his head, ever the model modest elder sibling. "No, they're
usually very well behaved." 
Cas couldn't quite stifle a smirk at that, not after everything very not well
behaved that he'd done with Dean.
"Anyway, this is the family collection," he continued, gesturing at the cars
around them, "Unfortunately they're not so well maintained, and I know it's a
very big favour to ask of you, but..."
"Hey, no problem. Anything for a friend." Dean stuck his hand out for Michael,
while Cas looked on, confused. He'd obviously missed something. "So I'll be
around next week to fix them up, check them over?"
Oh.
Cas' stomach did the little flipping thing again. Next time. Dean's words
echoed in his mind like a promise.
He was counting down already.
 
 
~fin.
***** Coda *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Cas loses his virginity.
Chapter Notes
     I gave in and wrote an extra chapter. Hope you enjoy!
"So, Michael isn't home yet," Cas said, trying to sound casual despite the
blood thudding in his ears. He watched from the garage doorway as Dean slid out
from under the car.
"Well, hello to you too," Dean smirked at him, covered in grease in such an
artful way that it reminded Cas of cheesy 'sexy fireman' calendars. Except Dean
was maybe ten times more appealing, he decided, when the image made him cringe
from secondhand embarrassment. "And yeah, Michael was here before but something
came up, had to dash off again. You know how it goes."
Their eyes locked for several long blissful moments, then Dean gestured back at
the car. "Guess I'd better get back to it, then."
Cas couldn't help it. He felt crushed.
Dean had practically ignored him the entire weekend. Oh, he'd definitely
been online - but every time Cas started a conversation Dean would explain that
he was too busy, that he'd forgotten the service logged him in automatically,
that he'd talk to Cas next time. All this, so soon after they'd finally met
face-to-face in Castiel's own home.
Logically, it made complete sense. Of course Dean wouldn't be interested in him
anymore. Certainly not after discovering he was Michael's younger brother,
short and lanky and nerdy, with a voice that had only just stopped cracking
from the overload of hormones that came with puberty.
"I was thinking, since we're going to be alone and all..." he trailed off,
watching as Dean was already getting distracted by the shiny metal of the car.
"Yeah, just let me finish this off first."
Well, he could take a hint.
"Fine. I'll let you work," he finally answered, folding his arms tight across
his chest. He'd been stupid; Dean was twenty four years old, and Cas still
thought he'd be interested in an immature teenager? He should have known
better. If anything, he should have realised the first time they met that Dean
was too good for him, especially after he'd fumbled his way through Dean's
blowjob and handjob and... Then, Michael…
He turned away, but Dean must have caught something on his face.
"Hey, Cas. Just let me finish this first,” he heard Dean repeat, this time
softer, “I promise."
"Okay," he mumbled. 
Then he went and hid in his room, feeling like an absolute idiot, ugly and
rejected.
 
 
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at his door. Dean cracked it open a
little and peered inside, greeted by Cas’ wide eyes.
“Oh. Dean, it’s you,” Cas blinked, sitting up in half a second flat and hugging
the pillow close to his chest. He’d told himself he’d go and knock down some of
the huge pile of homework constantly invading his desk, but truth be told he’d
felt so awful he couldn’t even bear to look at it. And now Dean had found him
moping on his bed like a heartbroken teenager, which, well…
Dean’s face broke into a kind smile and sat down on the bed beside him.
“Michael did tell you I’d be coming in today, right?”
Cas crossed his legs and looked away, embarrassed. “Yes, but I didn’t think you
wanted to talk to me.” Usually Dean’s smile made everything happy again, but
today it didn’t work so well. Probably because he felt like he was being mocked
right now.
“Why wouldja think that?” Dean looked genuinely bewildered, and his hand came
up to pull Cas’ shoulders around to face him.
“I don’t know. We haven’t been talking very much.” He glanced at Dean pointedly
at that.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, baby boy. You know things haven’t been great at the company,
we’ve got sales falling through and all that,” Dean shrugged. Cas would have
bristled, except Dean tugged him in and tucked his head under a lightly
stubbled chin. With his arms still crossed and his body cradled in Dean’s, he
felt even more like a child. “You forgive me, don’t you?”
“Don’t make me sound like that,” Cas answered, cross, before relenting. “I do.
But you can’t blame me for thinking…”
“I’m sorry, Cas, I mean it. I’ll let you know what’s going on next time,
alright? Just thought, since I’m coming over here today and all, I’d get a
chance to talk to you soon anyway.”
Cas shifted to throw his arms around Dean, still somewhat miffed but at least
comforted now. “You’ve got a chance to do more than just talk to me, you know,”
he answered, voice sweet. “And make things up to me while you’re at it.”
“Mm, I’d like that,” Dean grinned, landing a peck on the corner of his mouth.
“Sounds like you made plans for us.” He lifted the boy up until Cas moved his
legs to either side of Dean’s body, and the rough rub of jeans against dress
pants made them both gasp. With only thin layers of fabric separating them, Cas
was almost instantly hard.
“I – I have things I’d like us to do, yes,” Cas replied as he only barely
stifled a moan; not an easy task when Dean’s hips were grinding relentlessly
against his.
“Why don’t you tell me about them, then?” And there was no mistaking the smile
on Dean’s face.
 
~
 
“We need lube, condoms,” Dean listed as he moved away, making Cas whine at the
loss.
“I… I don’t have, I don’t know, I…” Cas’ tongue refused to form any coherent
words, and his brain had long short-circuited after the sight of Dean stripping
down to nothing before his very eyes.
Dean chuckled. “No worries, we’re all set, baby boy.” He fished into the pocket
of his previously discarded jeans and flipped through his wallet, producing two
thin foil packets and tossing them to the bed. Cas breathed out a sigh of
relief and he reached for them, about to try tearing them open with his teeth –
something he’d only seen in porn, admittedly – but Dean’s hand closed over his
own before he could bite.
“It’s not the flavoured kind, so iunno if it would taste any good,” Dean joked
with a wink. He tore the foil open and slathered the slick liquid down between
Cas’ thighs, slippery and cold, before one long finger – then two, oh god, two
of them – scissored open inside him.
Cas moaned and tried to thrust down onto them, impatient and incredibly turned
on. “Please… I can take another one, Dean, please, now!”
Dean leaned down, covering Cas’ body completely with his own, and planted a wet
open-mouthed kiss onto his lips. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna get there.”
True to his word, a moment later Dean had worked another finger in alongside
the others, but this time he was completely avoiding Cas’ prostate, no matter
how much Cas begged and pleaded for it.
At any other time he might have appreciated why Dean was being so
uncooperative, staving off Cas’ orgasm until the main event. But for now, he
was too busy chasing the pleasure shooting through his nerves to even try to
understand Dean’s stubbornness.
Until finally, finally Dean deemed him loose enough and withdrew his hand,
making Cas squeak in confused frustration until, with a tear of the final foil
packet and one smooth thrust –
Castiel screamed.
It was a blessing no one else was home, because the heavy stretch of Dean’s
cock inside him was almost too much. He was dizzy with pleasure, Dean’s nimble
fingers pinching at his taut nipples all the while. All he could think of was
the incredible feeling of Dean inside, muscles like a vise around him. It did
burn, it did sting when Dean shifted, but all Cas could do was moan and claw at
the sheets because it felt so good.
“Please, Dean… Dean, move,” Cas gasped, breathless.
Dean pushed forward, the length in Cas almost impossible deep – certainly
nothing he’d ever experienced, nothing like this he’d ever felt in his life –
until he was inside to the hilt, with nowhere else to go.
Then – oh, then - he began to thrust.
Cas felt like he was on fire, burning with the pleasure that sparked beneath
his eyelids with every hit to his prostate. He was buzzing with it, mouth dry
and throat hoarse as every groan was punched out of him. Dean was so big,taking
up all his space and then more, moving and thrusting and fucking, making Cas
feel so full he thought he might burst with it. At every push inside, Dean hit
Cas’ prostate like a bullseye, and it was like fireworks.
He barely registered his hands had gone from twisting in the sheets to being
scrunched in Dean’s hair, holding on for dear life as Dean sucked dark red bits
into his collarbone, over his shoulder, around his chest. He’d wrapped his legs
around Dean’s back, always trying to pull Dean ever deeper inside him, even as
the thick cock pumped in to its full length at every single thrust.
They gasped into each other’s mouths, wordless pants and moans filling the air
as they moved, a perfect fit in every kiss, every touch, every plea for more.
Cas was in heaven.
And then, just like that, it was over.
Cas came first with a silent shout, back arching off the bed as he spilled
across their stomachs. He writhed, oversensitive and still coming down from his
high, as Dean continued to fuck him into the mattress.
“Dean, Dean Dean Dean,” he moaned, breathless, as Dean’s thrusts quickened and
became erratic. Finally, with a loud moan into Cas’ neck, he slowed and
stopped.
They lay, panting to catch their breath, sandwiched together on the bed for
what felt like hours.
Cas slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, green only inches from blue,
and the words slipped out by themselves. “I love you.”
Dean’s arm wrapped around his back and held him ever closer as they lay side by
side, still catching their breath in the aftermath.
“Love you too, Cas.”
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