Dean let out a resigned sigh as he chucked his half-finished cigarette into the dirt, pocketed the keys to the Impala and trudged up the walkway to the massive cream-colored building. He entered through what he assumed was the library's main entrance, spotting a middle-aged woman sat behind a large oak countertop.
He leaned an elbow against the countertop, plastering a wide grin across his face. "Hey," he said, waiting for the woman to look up from her computer screen.
She did, gazing at him indifferently. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah," Dean replied, reaching a hand into his back pocket to retrieve the folded up community service paperwork the judge had provided for him. He unwrinkled it and slid it across the desk. "I'm here for community service."
The librarian glanced over the paperwork quickly. Dean assumed she had done this before, more times than she liked.
"You'll be working with Castiel," she said, turning back to her computer. "He's in there." She handed his paperwork back to him with a wave towards the double doors at the back of the room.
Dean slid his elbow off the desk, pocketing his paperwork as he crossed the quiet room, pushing through the double doors. The room he entered into was long and narrow, curving around a corner at the far right. It was full of dusty metal bookcases brimming with novels and textbooks.
"Hello?" he called out uneasily, seeing nothing but books and shelves. He moved to the far end of the room, peering around the corner. The room went on for another several bookcases, a multitude of doorways branching off both left and right.
Near the last few bookcases, Dean noticed a cart piled unevenly with books. And beside the cart, staring down at the spine of a large red anthology was a boy with dark rimmed glasses and even darker hair.
"Hey," Dean said as he closed the distance between them, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. "You Castiel?"
The boy looked up, surprised. He nodded, placing the book back onto the cart. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Dean froze about six feet away from him. Definitely not a boy, he thought as he took in the man's slight stubble and deep, graveled voice.
"The lady at the front desk told me to find you," Dean said, holding a hand out to Castiel. Castiel shook it briefly and silently. "I'm here for community service," Dean continued, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot under the man's steady gaze.
Castiel nodded again. "Do you know anything about library organization?" he asked, turning back to his cart full of books.
"Uh, not really, dude," Dean replied, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he came up beside the cart. "It's probably alphabetical, isn't it?" he guessed.
"Yes and no," Castiel replied, wedging around Dean to heft the large red volume into an empty slot between two similar volumes. "We operate under the Dewey decimal system," he said, returning his gaze to Dean. "You'll need to learn it," Castiel said.
They spent the next several hours pushing the cart through the stacks as Castiel talked Dean through the basics of the Dewey decimal system. Dean couldn't stop himself from flirting shamelessly with Castiel.
For the most part, Castiel didn't respond, though he did make a point to mention that the previous delinquents assigned to the library had spent the majority of their community service time helping him. And perhaps Dean should behave himself.
Dean grinned, wide and mischievous. The next few weeks didn't look so dull after all.
By his second week at the library, Cas had begun responding to Dean's advances. He would purposefully step into Dean's path when Dean attempted to pass him between the stacks. He would chuckle low and loud at Dean's crude jokes, making a point to touch Dean as often as possible – grazing his fingers as he passed him a book, placing a hand on his shoulder or his waist as he maneuvered around him. Occasionally, when Dean was reaching up to the top shelves, Cas' fingers would stray across the path of exposed skin between Dean's shirt and jeans, making Dean shiver and nearly drop whatever heavy tome he was attempting to put away.
"Cas, what –" Dean yelped as Cas backed him up into a closet of one of the upper floor stacks when Dean was gathering his leather jacket and getting ready to leave.
Cas' smile was wicked as he removed his glasses, carefully stashing them on a shelf to their left before he delved back into Dean's personal space. He walked Dean backwards until his shoulders bumped against the wall. He pressed against Dean's hips with his own, covering Dean's lips in a fierce kiss.
He nipped at Dean's lips until they opened for him, giving his tongue access to Dean's mouth. Dean moaned into him, his fingers finding their way into Cas' messy hair as his hips bucked up off the wall into Cas' own.
Cas' hands made quick work of the button and zipper of Dean's jeans, his hands circling around his waist to push the material off his hips, cupping the naked flesh of his ass as his boxers and jeans bunched on his thighs.
Dean groaned as his naked cock came in contact with the soft material of Cas' black khakis. He could feel Cas' smile against his lips before the man moved to press wet kisses to the line of his jaw.
"Jesus Christ, Cas," Dean gasped as Cas sucked a small bruise into the skin below his ear, his fingers slipping down the cleft of Dean's ass to prod at him cautiously. Cas' answering chuckle rumbled through his skin.
"We can go back to my dorm if you like," Cas murmured as he pressed a finger gently into Dean.
Dean cried out, his thighs quaking as he shook his head. He couldn't wait that long.
Cas nodded as he nuzzled into Dean's neck, his free hand inching Dean's t-shirt further up his chest. Dean removed it one-handed, dropping it to the ground.
"Why do you tuck your fucking shirt in?" Dean grumbled as he attempted to pull Cas' dress shirt out of his pants and over his head. Cas laughed, removing his hands from Dean's body to add his shirt to Dean's on the floor at their feet.
Dean pulled Cas against him, skimming his lips over Cas' neck and chest as Cas blindly searched the shelf over their heads with one hand, fingers tripping over scattered pencils and sticky notes before they closed around a small bottle of lube.
Dean opened his eyes at the sound of Cas rummaging, lifting his head away from the hickey he was sucking into Cas' bare chest. "Really?" he said, looking up at the shelf with a quirked eyebrow before returning his gaze to the bottle in Cas' hand.
Cas shrugged, smirking as he slid the bottle into the pocket of his pants. "Would you believe me if I told you I hadn't planned this?"
Dean laughed. "Not a chance."
Cas lifted Dean's knees to urge his jeans and boxers off of his legs. He kicked them into the pile with their shirts, wrapping a hand around Dean's waist.
"Turn around?" he murmured, looking at Dean carefully. Dean nodded his consent, and Cas smiled, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of Dean's ass.
Dean turned, leaning his forehead against the cold stone wall, his hands holding his torso away from it. He could feel Cas behind him, pressing kisses down his spine as he sank to his knees. Dean looked over his shoulder, unsure of Cas' movement.
Cas looked up, meeting Dean's gaze with a smirk as he spread Dean's ass with his thumbs. Dean's head thunked heavily against the wall as Cas licked a wide stripe between his cheeks, lapping at him until he was quivering, his fingers scrabbling at the wall as he tried and failed to find something to hold onto.
Dean moaned when Cas' tongue entered him. He dropped a hand to his dick, pumping it shallowly. "Cas," he gasped, eyes shut tight. "I'm not gonna last."
Cas responded with a brief hum before moving his tongue faster, bringing a hand up to cup Dean's balls, rolling them in his palm.
Dean bit his lip hard, overwhelmed by sensation. His hips didn't know which way to move – back onto Cas' tongue or forward into his own hand. He could feel his abdomen tightening almost painfully as the pressure built.
"Cas, Cas," he panted, stroking himself eagerly as he gave up on staving off his orgasm. Cas hummed into him again, and the coil in his abdomen burst in waves of pleasure that wracked his body and painted the wall in thick stripes.
He sagged against the wall, knees shaking. Cas stood slowly, trailing his fingers up Dean's spine, coming to rest on the back of his neck. He scratched his nails through the fine hairs at the base of Dean's skull, humming his approval as Dean's breathing slowly evened out.
Dean could feel Cas hard against his ass through Cas' khakis. He rubbed back against him experimentally, smiling when Cas' fingers stilled in his hair before he moved them. Dean could hear him undoing his belt – could feel the material of his pants as they slid away from Dean's ass.
The heat of Cas' body disappeared briefly as Cas collected the bottle of lube from his pants and kicked them away. Dean heard the cap snap open, closing his eyes as his spent cock made a half-hearted twitch of interest. He felt Cas' cool, slick fingers slide into him easily as Cas returned his lips to Dean's neck and shoulders, trailing wet paths across his freckles.
Dean bit his lip and groaned quietly when Cas added a third, twisting them expertly inside of him.
"I'm going to fuck you, Dean," Cas muttered against his ear, his fingers stilling inside of him until Dean nodded his assent. "Good," Cas murmured, pulling back from Dean and removing his fingers.
When he returned, resting his forehead in the crook between Dean's shoulder and neck, Dean groaned softly at the feel of Cas' slicked cock pushing slowly inside of him. His head fell back against Cas' shoulder, his jaw open on a silent moan.
"Okay?" Cas asked brokenly when he bottomed out, pausing for Dean to adjust. Dean nodded frantically, canting his hips back against Cas, encouraging him to move.
Cas rocked into him carefully, pressing hot kisses against the column of his throat as he pinned Dean's hips against the wall with his hands. Dean moaned approvingly, clenching down around him.
His thrusts became erratic, devolving into short, quick jabs before he stilled deep inside of Dean, moaning loudly into Dean's neck as he came.
Cas pulled out of Dean slowly, resting against the wall beside him as their breathing settled. Dean slid to the floor, exhausted, carefully resting on his knees. Cas smiled down at him, bending to gather his dress shirt and using it to clean himself. He offered it to Dean as he stepped back into his pants.
"I'm not cleaning that," Dean said with a chuckle as he stood, handing Cas' soiled shirt to him and pointing at the streaks on the wall. Cas laughed loudly pulling Dean forward into a hug, dropping a kiss to his temple.
He released Dean, shoving his shirt up onto the shelf above his head along with the small bottle of lube. "I think we'll go to my dorm next time," he said with a coy grin as he helped himself to Dean's shirt, pulling the soft fabric of the Led Zeppelin shirt over his head.
Dean nodded, swallowing thickly as he looked at Cas in his shirt, hair mussed worse than usual. He looked damn good. "You can, uh, you can keep that," he said, running a hand through his hair before getting a grip on himself and beginning to dress.
Cas smiled, running his hands over the fabric. "Thank you, Dean."
"Mhm," Dean mumbled in reply, shrugging into his leather jacket, buttoning it up across his naked chest. He smoothed a hand over his hair before opening the closet door.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean," Cas said with a smirk as he laced up his shoes, straightening as Dean waved and ducked out of the closet.