Thank you to my friend AndromedaeStarStorm69 for the new title idea!

Dean and Castiel are in a forbidden relationship. And no matter how many times Dean pushes Cas, the boy fights back just as hard. As Dean struggles with how morally wrong their affair is, Castiel struggles to figure out the man who too him in.

This story can be looked at as underage, which is why I put the warning up. However, where I live, it can be looked at as (technically) legal, so take it as you want. Dean is 26 and Castiel is 17. I will also posting warnings before each chapter, so you'll know what to expect.

Thank you to my two betas: waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over helping with the editing!

I also looked over the chapters myself, as did dragqueencas, but if there are any mistakes we missed, I apologize.

And a very special thank you to the lovely dragqueencas over on LiveJournal for co-writing this story with me! Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and being so patient while I put together and edited this story.

Warnings: masturbation

Dean stood on the front porch, waiting for the new arrival to come. The Sheriff had contacted him last night to let him know a new boy would be coming. All he knew about the boy was that he was 17 and had been caught stealing food from a local gas station. It was the same old song. A boy abandoned by his family, wandering around until someone found him. It was the same for all the other boys.

Castiel sat petulantly in the back seat of the squad car. He wasn't happy about having to live at a boy's home, relying on other people to provide him with what he needed. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself. And if he hadn't gotten himself caught in his one moment of desperation, he'd be sitting at the public library, enjoying his gas station pre-made meal and reading a big fat book. Instead, he was on his way to Winchesters' Home for Boys. Ugh. Though the name made the teen cringe, he supposed he was glad for the ultimatum the court gave him. He'd rather this than Juvie.

The cop's car was soon pulling up in front of Dean's house and a gruff looking officer climbed out of his seat and walked over to the back door.

"Out!" the man snapped to the boy in the back.

A teen boy with unruly dark hair climbed out of the back and looked up at the house. Dean noticed the boy looked completely normal, aside from the handcuffs, but didn't look roughed up like most boys when they first came here. Most boys would have been involved in fights, thus, sending them here. This boy almost looked out of place.

The boy's eyes wandered, taking in everything, scrutinizing what would be his new home. Then, his eyes landed on Dean and it felt like a punch to the stomach. They were the most intense and deep shade of blue that Dean had ever seen. The way the boy was looking at Dean, staring straight into his eyes, was like he was looking into his soul.

Castiel looked up at the big old house, noting where windows were so he could make escape plans. His eyes ran over the figure standing on the porch, and something drew his eyes back to it. He gasped quietly at the ray of sunshine staring down at him. This guy had to be one of the Winchester brothers, the guys who ran the place. Castiel took in the stance of the young man; posture straight and proud, legs bowed slightly, and arms resting on the railing. His eyes were moss green and Castiel swore he'd dream about rainforests tonight. The cop who brought him here was talking, but neither Castiel nor the Winchester seemed to be listening.

Dean swallowed hard and licked his lips when Castiel continued to stare at him. God, the boy was gorgeous. And so wrong! Dean's mind was screaming at him, reminding him he was the boy's new guardian, he couldn't think about what those eyes looked like with nothing but passion and lust in them; damn it!

"Dean Winchester?" a harsh voice broke his inner struggle. Dean blinked and realized the cop was still there, watching him. 'Shit,' Dean thought, not realizing he had zoned out.

"Officer Collins," Dean greeted curtly.

The officer nodded and walked up the porch steps, practically dragging the boy with him. "This is Castiel Novak. I assume you got the papers we sent over to you." Dean nodded, he had. There were about three pages of basic information about Castiel, but the odd thing was there wasn't any information about his past or any previous felonies—this guy almost didn't belong here.

It took Castiel a few moments to register that the officer was pulling him up the stairs, so his feet shuffled through the dusty grass and he nearly tripped over them. He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's face; Dean, as the cop had said. Even after he had turned to talk to the officer. Castiel stared and stared, counting the freckles on Dean's cheeks, his heart beating frantically at the close proximity. He wondered if the man was into younger guys.

"Why don't we go inside?" Dean suggested, still feeling the intense gaze of the boy's eyes on his face. "Get everything finalized." The officer nodded and started pulling Castiel again. Dean felt bad for the guy, he wasn't not cooperating, but the officer was treating him as such.

Dean led them through the door and over to a large opening to the left, showing the living room. He gestured to the brown couch, pushed up against the large bay window, looking out onto the porch and yard for Castiel and the officer to sit. Dean sat in a recliner that matched the couch, which was opposite to Castiel, giving Dean a great opportunity to watch him without suspicion.

As the three sat in the living room discussing final hand-overs and official papers and whatnot, Castiel took the time to really scrutinize Dean. Every so often, the man would glance his way. Sometimes he gave a small smile, sometimes he flicked his eyes straight back to the officer. Always, his green eyes glinted with something Castiel couldn't quite place.

After all the paper work was signed and the officer had driven away, Castiel stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he knew he wanted to get out.

"Okay, Castiel," Dean declared, moving back into the living room, after walking the officer out. "I guess I'll introduce myself. I'm Dean Winchester. Just call me Dean, no need for Sir, Mr. Winchester or anything like that; I'm not that old." Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I own this house with my brother Sam. He's in school at the moment, so he's not around as often. You'll also meet Kevin; he helps out here. He's a cool guy." Dean smiled at Castiel, hoping he was easing the boy's nerves a bit. "I went to a home like this when I was younger." Dean didn't know why he was revealing this information; he never divulged his story to any of the boys. "I didn't like it, but the owner, Sonny, he-he helped me."

Castiel tilted his head slightly, wondering what made Dean open up to him so quickly. Maybe he should stay a while to figure this man out.

"Okay, D-Dean." He stumbled on the word, not used to being permitted to using an adult's first name. He'd spent most of the past few years around cops and lawyers and social workers.

Despite his plans to escape ASAP, Castiel could feel himself warming up to the green-eyed man, and boy did that have to stop.

"See, not so hard." Dean returned Castiel's smile, happy that the boy seemed to be warming up to him. He couldn't help but feel like he wanted to know Castiel. He knew why Castiel was here, but he didn't know what lead to the theft—to him breaking when he had such a clean record compared to most of the boys here. But he wouldn't push the boy, he'd let him open up in his own time.

"Okay, Castiel," Dean said, standing in the middle of the living room entrance way. "How about a tour? Let you get to know this place?"

"Okay," the boy replied and followed Dean as he led Castiel through the house, showing him the kitchen, the dining room and the bathrooms. He was told of the chores he would have to do to earn his keep, which he didn't mind. Finally, they reached one of the bedrooms, which he would be sharing with two other boys close to his age. He was told he would meet them soon enough.

"This is your room," Dean announced when they stepped in front of a closed door on the second level. "You'll be sharing with Benjamin and Luke. You'll meet everyone later, but I'm going to let you get settled first."

Dean walked into the room, which was fairly large and had two beds pushed to the left side wall and two pushed to the right—Cas' clearly not occupied. There were two small dressers against the far side of the room below the window. "You can choose one of these two beds," Dean said, pointing to the two beds on the left.

Castiel nodded his thanks and walked tentatively over to the beds, where he placed his small knapsack containing what few possessions he had beneath the bed closest to the door.

Dean watched Castiel walk over to a bed, placing his things on the mattress. He then started peeling at the old tape with names of its past owners. Dean suddenly got a flashback of himself, only 16, walking carefully to a bed, while Sonny, the man who owned the house watched him. Castiel's movements were eerily similar to his own.

Castiel peered at the name written on electrical tape attached to the end of the bed. It was worn and scratched, so he could not read the words.

"Do I get to put my name on this bed, Dean?" he asked softly, his head turned towards where Dean was still standing at the door.

He didn't realize Castiel had spoken until he saw the piercing blue eyes stare at him again. "Wha-oh," Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. One moment," he replied, sounding a little flustered and quickly walked to his room to get the tape and a marker. "Here." He handed the objects to Castiel upon his return.

Castiel took them from Dean with another nod of thanks and peeled the tape from its place on the roll. He stuck the adhesive side to the bed reverently, gently pressing down the corners. He started to write his name, and then realized he was writing too big and didn't have room for his whole name. He sighed and begrudgingly stopped writing; capping the lid and handing the tape and pen back to Dean. He glanced over at the tape, eyeing the messy scrawl of "Cas" written in stark black ink. "At least now people won't get confused,"

"So, Castiel," Dean said, taking the tape and marker from the boy. "Do you want something to drink or eat? The boys just had lunch, but I can make up something." Dean watched the boy, waiting for his answer.

"Uh, sure, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Dean."

"Great!" Dean exclaimed and led the way downstairs. Castiel followed the man back downstairs to the kitchen, where Dean started preparing a meal for the boy. Now that he thought about it, Castiel was fairly hungry. He hadn't eaten since his trial the day before.

"You'll soon come to realize that you'll prefer my cooking over Sammy's. I actually make edible food, and not the rabbit shit he prefers," Dean explained, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. "So, what do you want? Sandwich? Burger? Salad?" Dean made a statement with his face at the mention of salad. Dean gestured to the kitchen table, silently telling Castiel to take a seat and he would do the work.

"Actually, I haven't had a burger in years," Castiel said quietly, staring at the wood ingrain of the table. He had come to terms with his sporadic homelessness, but he still felt some embarrassment while talking to people about it.

"You're kidding?" Dean asked rhetorically, looking at the boy with shock. He wasn't trying to be condescending, but it just surprised him. "Well," he said, pulling a patty from the fridge, "We're going to change that." Dean grabbed a bun and the toppings left over from lunch, and placed them on the counter.

Dean pulled out an electric grill and turned it on. It was too much work to turn the BBQ on for one burger. "So, Castiel," Dean started after a few moments of silence. He turned away from the grill and looked over at the boy. He could see the other boys, working out in the yard, through the large window behind the table. "Do you like sports?" Dean knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to get to know the new boy.

"Uh, no, I don't," Castiel replied. He was going to leave it at that, but something compelled him to share with this man. It may have been a generic question, but Dean genuinely seemed to care. "I read a lot. And if I have the materials, I like to paint." He said this hurriedly, trying to evade as much tension as possible. "You uh, you can just call me Cas, if you like," he muttered as a second thought. "If it's easier, I mean." He went back to staring at the table.

"Cas," Dean said, trying out the name. "I like it," he said, smiling over at the boy. "So, you read. What do you like to read?" Dean pulled a small container of fries from the fridge and placed them in the little toaster oven next to the grill.

Castiel's head darted up at the sound of Dean testing his name. He grinned and blushed when Dean smiled at him and dropped his head again. "Uhh, I like a lot of old literature. Like Victor Hugo and Charlotte Bronte and Edgar Allen Poe." Dean nodded approvingly as Castiel listed off names. Those were some unusual names for a 17-year-old boy. Cas let the silence sit for a while before he ventured a question for Dean. "D-do you like s-sports?"

Dean was just flipping the fries when Castiel spoke up. "I do," he admitted. "I don't play, though. I did when I was younger, but I prefer to watch now." He smiled, remembering the few memories of him and Sam playing football in an open field, during one of their dad's disappearances. "Sometimes the boys put together a game and we watch some games on TV."

Castiel smiled politely, picking at a loose string in his too-large t-shirt. This was one of the few items he had, along with a few stolen library books.

Dean slid the burger off the grill and onto the bun. "Do you want anything on your burger?" Dean held up the burger, showing it to Castiel and placed it on the counter, waiting for the fries to finish.

The boy's head shot up again. He seemed surprised to be acknowledged. He guessed that's what happened when one spent most of his life invisible.

"Uh some cheese would be great, if you could."

Dean nodded and placed a slice of cheese on the meat and placed the finished fries on the plate. "Here you go." Dean placed the plate in front of Castiel. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine, thank you," Castiel uttered before unceremoniously shoving the burger into his mouth. He managed about a third of its mass before he had to bite down. Even after this, he still fit seven fries in next to the meat and bread. Cas hummed appreciatively, bordering on sexually, at the taste of his first burger in three years. He tried to tell Dean as such, but all he managed was a gurgling harrumphing sound around the mass of food.

Dean went over to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and filled it with water. When he handed the drink to Castiel, the boy was already halfway through his burger. Dean would have enjoyed the fact that Castiel was enjoying his meal, had it not been for the sounds, the moans. They sent a shiver down Dean's spine, and a familiar pull in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but let thoughts in of what Castiel might sound like making those noises for something other than a burger.

Castiel shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth, chewed messily and swallowed greedily before gulping down his entire glass of water.

"These make me very happy, Dean," Castiel said reverently, gazing up into the older man's eyes. There, he saw the glint again. He still could not place what it was.

Dean had to fight the urge to lean forward and lick a stray drop of water running down the boy's chin. "I'm glad, Cas," he said, needing something to distract him. "Tell me a bit more about yourself." It may have been to distract Dean, but he really did want to learn more about Castiel. Most boys, when they were handed over to the Winchesters, had a fairly decent sized file. Dean didn't really need to ask a lot of questions; but Castiel, Castiel was a mystery.

"There's not much to tell," Cas said, licking his lips, raking in the leftover taste of meat coating his skin. "I never knew my dad. My mom got into heroin and was killed by her dealer. I've been on the streets ever since. When I was younger, people would pity me and give me money and food. But as I got older, more man than boy, people just ignored my existence." Cas paused for a moment, fiddling with his shirt. He wondered why he was revealing so much about himself so quickly, and found he couldn't stop. Dean just emanated 'safe' from his very being. "I slept in public libraries, homeless shelters, and empty houses for sale. Anywhere I would go unnoticed. I hadn't eaten in a week when I stole that food from the gas station. I was messy when I did it, wasn't able to run because I had no energy. I passed out and woke up in a jail cell. The trial happened, and here we are."

Dean remained silent as Castiel told his sad tale. He had heard it before, every boy's tale was different, but always linking them all in the end. "That's a lot for a boy to go through," Dean said softly, looking at Cas' face, which held no emotions. He guessed Cas was used to reliving the tale over and had built up an armour against it. "No one deserves to go through that; I'm sorry." Dean tried to not look or sound like he was pitying the boy; he knew what it was like to receive pity and he didn't want Castiel to feel the same way. "But you don't have to worry about that now; you have a home now." Dean tried to smile and sound encouraging, but he was reserved a bit; he didn't want to offend Castiel.

Castiel sighed, the weight of his story finally lifted after so many years. All it took was one person to care enough to listen. He had nodded in thanks at Dean's words, his lip trembling slightly. He was overwhelmed by relief, acceptance and indiscriminate care. His eyes welled up and he hung his head once more, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. He'd barely been there an hour and he was already crying in front of a beautiful man who Castiel was meant to see as his guardian.

Dean was used to seeing the boys that came to him cry. It had been uncomfortable at first, but now, after a few years of doing this, Dean was fairly confident in his comforting skills. "Well," Dean said, breaking the silence with a cheery tone, trying to lighten the mood. "It's your first day here; I'm not going to make you do any work." Dean smiled at Castiel, whose eyes were now sparkling because of the tears, looking beautiful. "What do you want to do?"

Cas swiped at his tears, a hot flush gracing his cheeks with embarrassment. He sniffled once, twice, and then looked directly at Dean. He was confident for a maximum of three seconds before he folded. "I-I don't kn-know," he stammered, giving a nonchalant shrug. He had wanted to seduce Dean, but he supposed that could take some time, and considering his display not moments ago, he wasn't sure if Dean would find him attractive with tears on his face.

"Well, it's up to you," Dean offered, not wanting to put any reserve in his offer, however, he would not tolerate drinking. "What about we get you some clothes?" It could have been seen as an obscene offer, but more boys than not came to him with very little possessions. It was almost standard that he gets each new boy some new clothes.

"I- uh-Y-yes, yes that would be nice. Thank you, Dean." Castiel had been expecting a lot of words, but somehow, the ones that escaped Dean's lips, were not what he anticipated. He was excited all the same, no matter how mundane of an event it seemed.

"Great. Sam will be here in about an hour," Dean said, looking at his watch. "Once he gets here, we'll go." Dean smiled at Castiel, feeling slightly excited about going shopping with the boy. This wasn't a gesture he was new to, but he had never had this feeling before about taking the new kid out; to get the chance to see Castiel in some—perhaps better fitting clothes. God, he felt like such a pervert, but those thoughts didn't stop a rush of thoughts of Castiel in his clothing.

"S-so, what do we d-do for a whole uh...hour?" Castiel struggled to get the words out, internally cursing himself. He wanted that to sound alluring. He knew he'd get nowhere if he kept being such a geek. Dean would probably show more interest in someone who shared his like of sports, not some homeless, weedy, dorky guy he had to provide for.

"We can look around the different shops. There are a few discount shops around here." Dean smiled and took Castiel's dishes to the sink. He rinsed the plate underneath the running water.

"Oh," he exclaimed softly. And it must have been a testament to how much he craved attention, because he already felt special and wanted with Dean.

Truthfully, Dean usually wasn't this open with the other boys. He normally gave them a couple of hours to pick a few things and then go, but with Cas, Dean felt a need to be around him.

"Do you want to go meet the others?" Dean asked. "Or you can do that later."

"I'm sure we will acquaint ourselves later," Castiel replied. "I'd like to spend more time with you, if that's okay." The boy's head was down, but his eyes were staring up at Dean through his lashes. He batted his lids gently and tilted his head to the side, hoping to get a reaction.

Dean swallowed thickly and looked at Cas. God, the kid didn't know how fucking beautiful he looked like that—so innocent and seductive. He felt dirty when he felt his pants grow slightly tighter, but God, it was welcomed.

"Sure, Cas," Dean said after a few seconds, but what felt like minutes of silence. "Whatever you want."

Dean's pause was noticeable, but not as much as the glance he raked over Castiel.

"Great," was all he said, before he shuffled past Dean and out of the room. Dean took a moment before following Castiel into the living room.

Castiel crossed the hall into the living room where he saw an old piano before. He sat silently before the keys and glanced up at where Dean was standing in the doorway. "May I play?" he asked, letting a corner of his mouth come up slightly.

"You play?" Dean asked interested, looking from the piano to the boy.

"Yeah," Cas replied. "I mean, I haven't since I was a kid, but I think I can remember.

Dean nodded and just shrugged. "It hasn't been played in a while; probably out of tune, but go ahead." Dean gestured for Castiel to go for it. The piano, aside from moving from its original post, hadn't been touched since his mother died.

The teen placed his hands reverently on the keys, trying to choose a song to play for Dean. He played a few warm up scales, reveling in the sound that filled the room, before deciding on a Missy Higgins song. He played the first few bars before humming along, grinning to himself.

"I've still got it," Cas thought.

Dean stood in the entrance way, listening to Castiel play. It was nice, getting to hear the soft tune of the piano again; and Castiel was pretty good. "How long did you play for?" Dean found himself asking, curious to find out more about the boy.

Castiel looked over at Dean, but continued playing, the music a nice backing track to the conversation. "Since I can remember," he said. "My mother taught me when she was still sober. I think I was four."

Dean smiled at the thought of a little Castiel, sitting at the piano trying to learn, but the thought was soon tainted by what he revealed about his mother. It was tragic; Dean knew what it was like growing up with an alcoholic; his father. It had been what sent him to the boys' home in the first place. Dean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Should he apologize? But he didn't know what Cas' relationship with his family had been. So he settled with, "You play well."

"Oh, I'm nothing compared to what my mother could do," he said quietly. Thinking about his mother made him retreat back into himself, and he stopped playing, staring at the keys as if they would bite him.

"Well, I'm impressed you were able to get a tune out of that old thing," Dean said. He then realized the boy had stopped playing. He worried, feeling guilty that it had been something he said. He was about to say something else when he heard the familiar crunch of gravel. "Sammy's here."

Castiel glanced up at Dean, who had turned toward the hallway now to greet his brother.

"Hey there, Sammy," Dean greeted his brother and pulled him in for a hug.

Castiel thought the younger Winchester would have looked more like Dean. Instead, he was shocked to see that Sam towered over Dean, with long hair and long arms and long pretty much everything else. The differences between the brothers were endless, but the love they shared in just a greeting was something to admire.

"Dean," Sam chuckled, but responded to the hug. "It's only been two weeks."

"Shut it, bitch. It's about time you showed your face here, Kevin's been stuck taking on your work and his."

Sam just rolled his eyes and chuckled. He looked over to see Castiel standing off to the side. Sam cleared his throat at tilted his head towards Castiel.

Dean turned and looked at Castiel. "Oh, right," Dean said, catching the hint. "This is Castiel, the new addition I told we were getting. Castiel-" Dean turned to look at the boy "-This is my brother, Sammy." Dean clasped Sam's shoulder, smiling proudly at his brother.

Sam looked on as Castiel fidgeted on the piano bench. It was odd seeing someone sitting there—Dean never let any of the boys anywhere near it. Why was Castiel near it?

Castiel felt like he was intruding. He was still sitting at the piano, and he wasn't sure how the younger man felt about a stranger touching his dead mother's things. He stood quickly and raised his hand awkwardly. "Hey, hi, uhh, Mr. Winchester," he stumbled out.

He was about to throw his brother a questing glance, but Castiel then spoke up, pulling the younger man's attention to the newcomer. Sam cracked a large smile at Castiel's formality. "It's just Sam, Castiel. No need for titles." However, Sam did shake the boy's hand to make him feel more welcomed.

Castiel already warmed to Sam. He was a giant ray of sunshine wrapped in puppies wrapped in babies laughing. Castiel felt his bad mood fading away and a warmth spread through him. These men would look after him. He was safe and wanted here.

"So, I was going to take Cas to get a few things," Dean spoke, after the introductions were done. "You don't mind staying here with the boys for a few hours, right? They're just in the back doing yard work."

"Nah, go ahead," Sam said, moving away from the doorway. "I can handle things here."

"Great," Dean smiled and turned to Cas. "Want to get going now?"

Dean's question broke his reverie. "Yeah, sure, thanks. It was nice meeting you, Sam."

"You, too, Castiel," Sam said and watched as his brother and Castiel walked out of the door. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw his brother's gaze linger on Castiel's face when he asked his question. But it wasn't just a friendly gaze, it was intense eye contact; neither one blinked until Sam responded to Castiel.

Dean led Castiel out to a large shed, which could probably pass as a small barn, where an old, black car was parked.

"Oh my God," Castiel gasped and stopped in his tracks. "This is not your car!" He was enthralled, and felt like a teenage girl. But the car was beautiful; sleek and shiny, well cared for and immaculate. He could see his reflection in the paint.

"This is Baby," Dean introduced, running a hand along the hood, almost caressing it. "She was my dad's, but I got her when he died." He unlocked the doors so they both could get in. Sam always made fun of him and what he called a borderline love affair with his car, but he never paid attention and it sent a proud feeling through him from Castiel's reaction.

"I love her," Castiel blurted out, plastering a hand over his mouth. He wasn't meant to say that, anything but that. Now Dean would think he was a weirdo for liking his car so much. Ugh, he thought to himself. So stupid, Cas!

Dean chuckled lightly and smiled at Castiel, something unreadable shining in his eyes. And then the best and worst thing happened - Dean brushed it off. "Don't let Sammy hear you say that—he'd never let you hear the end of it." He gave Castiel a wink and slid in behind the wheel. He put the key into the ignition and the car roared to life. "Ready?" he asked.

Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and entered the passenger side. All he could do was nod once the engine was turned on. The rumble of the engine was seductive and Castiel felt his old jeans tightening shamelessly. Dean was attractive, physically and intellectually, and the car was what brought it all together. He wondered how long Dean had owned this car, whether he lived out of it at some point, if he took his kid brother places when they were younger, and Castiel felt like he was sitting inside the man's life. It should've been enough to make him cry, but here he was, being aroused.

The loud music of AC/DC blared through the speakers.

"Sorry," Dean said, turning the music down, and giving Castiel a sheepish look. "Used to just driving by myself." Though that was true, Dean suddenly loved the idea of Castiel riding next to him for some other occasion, especially when the boy looked sexy in his car.

"I don't mind," Castiel rushed to say, finally finding his voice. God, he was gripping the leather seat so tightly, he thought his fingertips would fall off. His dick was practically jumping in his pants. He didn't know how Dean hadn't noticed yet.

Dean noticed Castiel's ridged posture, but he figured he was just nervous. Hell, if he wasn't feeling the same way, he'd be lying. Seeing Castiel sit next to him, gripping the seats so tightly, and imagining the boy gripping him so tightly. God, what was wrong with him?

Rumbling along the highway with Dean should have been comforting, relaxing. Instead, the ride was fraught with tension as Cas tried and failed to quell his arousal. He tried staring out the window, but his gaze was always brought back to Dean. He was harder than ever now, and he didn't know what the hell he was going to do.

When they finally reached the store Dean felt relieved and yet very uncomfortable. As the car ride went on, Castiel's posture stayed rigid. He never once let go of the seat and soon images of him with Castiel in the back of the Impala, as the boys nails dug into his shoulders, encouraging Dean's hard, deep thrusts, crept into his mind. Dean groaned inwardly and hurried out of the car, into the fresh air. God, damn it, he felt so disgusted with his thoughts, but even with his inner berating, he didn't stop himself.

Castiel took a few moments to collect himself when the car stopped. He breathed in and out and willed his erection away, to no avail. He sighed deeply and eased his nails from the upholstery before joining Dean on the sidewalk.

They walked into the closest clothing store.

"Okay." Dean clasped his hands together when they stopped in front of the men's clothing. "Just pick out what you need. You can try them on if you need to," he instructed, trying his best to not stare at Castiel. "I'll be around here if you need anything." He pointed to another section of the clothing.

Dean saw Castiel nod understandingly and before Castiel could ask if there was a price limit on what to buy, Dean had walked off, leaving Cas alone in front of the men's section. Dean needed some space, some time to clear his head, but having Castiel around was a constant reminder that he needed to be careful in public.

Castiel felt like he'd done something wrong. He brushed the thoughts aside and picked out a few cheap, comfy t-shirts and jeans, going to the changing room to check their fit. He slid his own jeans down his legs once the door was locked and realized he was still achingly hard. He looked around, saw a make-up scarf, and decided it couldn't hurt to release some tension if he was quiet. So he pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and started jacking off slow and long, twisting at the end. He stifled his groans with teeth on his lips and held the make-up scarf in front of his cock so as not to spill. The thrill of getting caught made it all even hotter.

Dean walked around the store for a bit, giving Castiel some space and time for himself. Or so Dean told himself. It was a good distraction for him to not have the piercing blue eyes constantly staring at him, so innocent and trusting. God, those eyes alone were enough to get him inappropriately hard, lusting over the 17-year-old boy.

After 15 minutes, Dean decided to go and check up on the boy. He didn't see a dark mop of hair amongst the racks, so he figured Castiel was probably in the changing rooms, knowing he couldn't leave without him. He slipped into the small room. Only one door was closed, which he figured was Castiel's.

Cas had smoothed his pre-come down his shaft, a slick path for his flying hand. By this point, Cas' hand was a blur over his throbbing member. He was edging closer and closer to his release. He could feel the familiar hot-heaviness in the pit of his stomach, balls tightening, heart rate pounding, and then –

"Castiel?" Dean knocked gently, waiting for an answer.

Cas froze, aching cock in hand. Dean was just outside the door. The object of Castiel's fantasy was right outside. In his split second of confidence, Castiel nearly opened the door and dragged him inside to show Dean how hard he was for the older man. This quickly dissipated though, as fear and anxiety set in. He tucked his still hard dick back into his underwear, unlocked the door and peeked out.

"Hey, sorry," he apologized to Dean, trying to keep his voice under control. Castiel answered almost breathlessly, concerning Dean. He was about to ask if he was alright when the boy pulled open the door and walked out of the room with an armful of clothes. "There was a bit to try on. Everything fits." He was lying, of course. Everything actually looked a little too big, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that.

Though, Castiel didn't seem any different, aside from his flushed cheeks. Flushed cheeks? Castiel's cheeks were tinted pink, which caught Dean's attention, his eyes raking over his face. God, that colour looked great on him.

He still sounded out of breath when he spoke again and suddenly a realization had hit Dean. The familiar breathlessness and dishevelled look. Had Castiel been…? Dean's thought trailed off, eyes snapping over to Castiel, walking away with his new clothing. Jesus, he was in trouble.

Castiel shuffled up to the counter, his pile of clothing covering his crotch. He hadn't had time to finish, which meant he was going to be grumpy as hell until he could have a shower.

He turned to Dean, who was a few steps behind, and asked, "I hope all this is okay." He gestured to the pile he had just placed on the counter. "If it's too much, I can put some back."

Castiel's voice drew Dean out of his fantasy and he realized he was standing in front of the counter with Castiel's picks on it and a young blonde ringing them through.

"Nah, it's fine," he reassured the boy, pulling out his wallet. The blonde told them the total and Dean paid for them, grabbing the bags, handing them to Castiel.

The car ride was tense, neither one will to say anything. Dean couldn't ignore the slight shift Castiel would do in his seat each time they hit a bump. Dean had a faint idea on what was bothering the boy, and it didn't help the man with his mental or physical state. Dean's pants were now getting tighter the more Castiel moved, the urge to pull over and drag Castiel into his lap and let the boy grind into him was almost too much.

"Oh God. I'm going to die," Cas thought to himself, the pressure of his pants around his cock constricting as ever. He didn't know how much longer he could withstand the jolts of the car making him buck up and then back again. He couldn't stop looking at Dean's hands, clenched tight around the steering wheel, knuckles white. He imagined them wrapped around himself, gripping his arms as the older man fucked into the boy. He shook his head, trying and failing to rid his head of his fantasy. Dean was his guardian. His thoughts were the deepest shade of dirty-wrong he could fathom. So why did it feel so right?

Dean was relieved when they reached the road to the house. He was in desperate need of a cold shower and time away from the object of his dirtiest fantasies. He felt disgusted with himself and yet he couldn't bring himself to stop the inner lusting; the thoughts he hadn't had since he was Castiel's age.

Dean struggled to not let a sigh of relief escape his lips, not wanting to offend the boy. He quickly threw the car into park and helped Castiel take his bags into the house.

"You can just put these in your room and then just relax," Dean said, handing Castiel the bags he had taken in. "Dinner will be started shortly, but you still have time to yourself." With that, Dean hurried up the stairs and into his room, not bothering to let Sam know he was back; his brother could wait.

Dean went into his adjoining bathroom and turned the water on. He intended on it being a cold shower, but he knew what it would become. The picture of a blue-eyed, dark hair boy filled Dean's mind, bringing his already eager cock to further attention. He was now aching hard and throbbing.

Dean wrapped a hand around the length, slowly moving along it, increasing the speed each time, as the pressure built. Low moans and gasps bounced off the tiled walls. Dean squeezed the base, imagining it was Castiel's hand wrapped tightly around his cock, Castiel's fingers running along the slit, smearing the pre-come over the head.

Dean's legs were starting to shake; the pressure in the pit of his stomach growing. "Oh, God!" he cried out, placing his free hand against the wall for support, feeling dangerously close to the edge. He gave a few more strokes, tightening his grip, and let out a cry of the boy's name as he spilled over his hands and stomach.

Cas clutched his bags tightly to himself and raced up to his room, barely registering Dean's words. He threw his bags down, shut his door and moved the closest dresser over the door, as there wasn't a lock, so no one could get in. He crawled into bed, kicked off his jeans and started humping into his hand. He breathed out fast and lust-filled groans, sliding his fist up and down his cock to images of Dean touching him. He didn't last long. The tension in the car and his earlier session in the dressing room saw to it that Cas spilled into his hand in a matter of seconds. He lay sated long enough to feel bad about himself before moving to drag the dresser away from the door again. It was going to be a long summer.

Dinner was an interesting affair. The other boys were with them and Sam had decided to join as well. Dean was sat next to his brother and was struggling to not look at Castiel, who was sitting next to Luke two seats across from him.

Sam, being the social person that he was, failed to see the tension between the boy and his brother and kept asking him various questions about himself, trying to get to know him better. They were basic questions about favourite hobbies, food, sports teams, but it was a torturous fifteen minutes for Dean. Every time he heard the gravelly voice, too deep for a boy his age, it would go straight to his cock. It didn't help that when Sam had first addressed Castiel, causing the boy to choke on his water in surprise, his voice had dropped an entire octave and Dean's pants had gotten very tight, despite his session in the shower.

Castiel was fuller than he'd been in a month. The food was delicious and he made a mental note to thank and compliment Kevin on his cooking. During the meal, however, he tried extremely hard to rid Dean from his mind. It didn't work, and he stole glances at the man from across the table, blushing whenever he was caught looking. Sam asking him questions the whole time kept him distracted, however, and he was at least giving coherent answers. Nothing stopped his growing erection, however. Damn teenage recovery times.

Once everyone had finished eating, Dean offered to do the dishes. It was unusual and Sam was suspicious. "Since when do you offer to help? You installed the rule 'cooker does the dishes' because you practically see doing nothing as your job." Sam crossed his arms and looked at his brother accusingly.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean grumbled, and picked up a plate to clean. "You really waste no time trying to deduce my every little movement. What is this, three hours? New record?" Dean glared over ar his brother. "Not everything I do has ulterior motives."

"Right," Sam dragged put, in a sarcastic tone.

"Fine," Dean snapped, throwing the plate he had been cleaning into the sink. "You finish the dishes." Dean promptly turned on his heels and stalked out of the room.

Watching Dean blow up like that was both scary and extremely sexy. Castiel felt his heart beat a little quicker and a hot flush rise to his neck and cheeks. A surge of confidence shot through him and this time, he was going to act.

Dean was on edge. Castiel's little glances throughout dinner had wound him up. How the boy would look at him through his lashes to avoid being obvious. It was the real reason Dean opted to do the dishes; to get away from Cas.

Dean stormed up the stairs to his room, ignoring the questioning stares of the boys and just avoiding Castiel, the reason he was in this fucking mess. Castiel pushed out of his chair and raced after Dean. The boy caught him on the top of the stairs. Wordlessly, he dragged Dean by the wrist the rest of the way to Dean's room. Cas' fingers tingled as he finally touched Dean. He shut the door behind them and leaned his back against the wood for a second, staring.

Once they were in Dean's bedroom, Castiel let go of Dean's wrist and shut the door. He pushed himself against it, faking innocence. It pissed Dean off that Castiel was in his room, taunting him, acting out. Castiel was going against his rules.

Castiel couldn't believe he'd just done that. He was inches away from Dean who was looming over him, an expression mixed between shock and frustration gracing his features. Castiel gulped. Was he in trouble?

Acting on instinct, Dean shoved Castiel hard against his door, the teen's head making a harsh crack against the wood. The boy gasped as his head hit the door and Dean gripped Castiel's hips to keep him from moving and pushed himself against the boy, feeling the bulge strain against the denim of his pants. Without a second thought, Dean pushed into Cas, shoving him harder against the door and claimed his lips in a bruising kiss.

Castiel's pain was soon forgotten once Dean finally pressed their lips together. He couldn't help letting out a whimper as he relaxed into the man. Was this real? He found his hands snaking up and around Dean's neck, his fingers brushing into his hair.

"You think you are so good at teasing me," Dean growled against the teen's lips, nipping harshly on the bottom. "You think because I've shown you a little attention you can get away with this shit."

When Dean growled out his frustrations, Castiel just moaned and pushed his hips up, brushing their clothed cocks together and placing a biting kiss to the man's lips, causing Dean to growl.

Dean removed a hand from the teen's hip and snaked it behind Castiel's head, grabbing a fist-full of hair. "I wouldn't do that, Cas," he warned in a low growl, his eyes shining with desire.

Dean trailed his lips down Castiel's neck, giving a harsh tug on the teen's hair, pulling his head back to give him better access. Dean began to suck aggressively at Castiel's pulse point, lapping his tongue over the mark and then biting down hard, but not to draw blood. Castiel was whimpering and shifting, trying to get some friction.

Castiel cried out softly as Dean pulled his head back. He breathed harshly, thrusting minutely, rutting into Dean's thigh. The hot-wet-more feeling on his neck eased with the laving of Dean's tongue, soothing the harsh pain that would no doubt become a hickey. When Dean's teeth sank into his neck, Castiel cried out again.

"Dean!" He rolled his hips up again, craving attention to be placed on his cock. "Please, Dean," he murmured. "Please!"

"Shh," Dean soothed, standing up to full height. He gently stroked Castiel's hair. "Patience; we'll get there…later. You should join the other boys now." Dean smiled darkly and opened the door. He gave Castiel a smug smirk and shoved him out of the room.

All of a sudden, Cas found himself on the other side of Dean's door, a hickey blooming on his neck and a hard cock. 'That was payback,' Cas thought to himself. He's punishing me for teasing him. There was no other explanation. Cas refused to believe that Dean just didn't want him, as that would make the last five minutes completely redundant. Instead, Castiel floated back to his own room, high on the feeling of acceptance and being owned. That's what it felt like, being owned; a plaything. He could work with this.

"Fuck," Dean cursed to himself. As much fun as it was to tease Cas, he was now so rock hard that he doubted a cold shower would fix it. He was seriously contemplating going back out there and just taking Cas, but he couldn't. He wanted Cas to tease him, to make him feel dirty for wanting a boy almost ten years younger than he.

He also wanted to get to know Cas. Figure out what he liked; what made him scream. Sure, they were in a game of teasing, to see who could break whose restraint first. He would win, that much he was certain. But he was also certain that he wanted Cas and wanted to care for him.