Inspired by the song Flames by VAST
Close your eyes{Let me give you something that is real}
Dean is sharp, but at same time soft in all of the right places.
And somehow, he always manages to look disturbingly stunning against that lamp-post. And it is so wrong. He shouldn't look so good, not like that, not doing what he does.
(Not being asyoung as he is.)
"He is too young" Castiel thinks. He curses himself for wanting what he wants.
Too young.
But the thing is, Dean is also too handsome, his eyes are too green and he looks too innocent with flush high on his cheekbones from the cold.
He is too much for Castiel resist.
(~)
"What is your name?" Castiel asks, untying his shoes.
Dean doesn't quite smile. "John," he says simply, lips remaining slightly parted. He has a familiar accent, he is from south, Castiel can tell that.
And his name obviously isn't John.
There's silence. "That is not your name," Castiel murmurs.
He watches as "John" opens his shirt, button by button, slowly as if they had all the time in the world. As if Castiel weren't paying per hour.
"My name is Castiel," Castiel says, looking for the boy's green eyes.
"I know." He nods, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair. "You told that me before."
"Did I?" It comes out of Castiel's lips before he even realizes he is saying it out loud.
"You did." Dean straddles Castiel's lap, digging his fingernails into the skin of the older man's shoulder. "You always do," he whispers smiling slightly.
(~)
"You're not married, are you?" Dean asks out of nowhere.
His dirty blond hair is slightly shorter his time.
Castiel feels tempted to ask why he cut his hair, but he doesn't. He still looks beautiful and in the end that is what matters.
"No," Castiel replies as the boy kneels between his legs.
The boy laughs. "I- have no idea why… But man, I'm not surprised by that." He looks up and suddenly he seems even younger.
"Why?" Cas murmurs, head titled to the side.
The boy blushes slightly. "I don't know man, I guess you didn't seem the cheater type," he whispers looking away.
Instantly another "Why" fills Castiel's mind. Why that boy was doing this, selling his body in dirty alley? He could be doing so much better. He should be doing so much better…
"To buy a winter coat for Sammy." Dean would have answered.
But the question was never asked.
(~)
"What is your name?"
"John."
"Your real name?"
"John."
(~)
"You don't need a hooker for this," Dean says, practically moans. He looks so beautiful, sweaty, young, flushed, gripping Cas' thighs "I-I'm sure you could go to bar and buy someone a drink and get what you're getting from me…"
"No I couldn't," Castiel says, keeping his eyes on the boy "I couldn't," he repeats. There's a fluttering of panic in his chest but he is too close to his climax to bother.
"I-I guess that makes sense," the hooker lies, grunting, moaning, clenching around Cas.
It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't make any sense at all.
(~)
"My name is Castiel."
"I know"
(~)
"You honestly don't have the first clue what you're doing do you?" Dean laughs as Cas snuggles him closer. "That is why you treat me like this." He turns around to meet the older man's eyes. "I bet you never bought a whore before"
"I've been treating you exactly the way I want to," Castiel replies.
It is twisted and fucked up in more than one way, but it is truth.
"Right," the boy snorts, leaning up to kiss Castiel.
(~)
"What is your name?"
"John."
(~)
It is a Thursday, they are in hotel room again and once more Dean is obediently hard.
But this time there is no way of telling if it's a learned response or genuine. So Castiel strips the boy with care. He caresses his thin body, kissing gently the marks and bruises, but Dean seems too off today, his eyes a bit too distant and his responses a little too mechanic.
More than anything, in that night Cas wants Dean to look at him, into his eyes.
"Look at me," he murmurs.
"Please look at me" he begs when Dean doesn't respond.
Tired green eyes are fixated on him.
Cas stands, disengaging himself from Dean's unresponsive embrace.
He feels sick, his throat feels constricted. Castiel feels likea monster.
Dean is not really surprised when Castiel leaves, but he's surprised he still pays.
(~)
"My name is John."
(~)
Cas picks up another guy.
Dean doesn't want him. The previous time was more than enough proof of that.
And Castiel is tired, so fucking tired. He wants freedom from that boy's embrace, his sparkling laugh and his breathless moans…
Didn't Castiel once buy from Dean the illusion of love, of desire?
Maybe he can buy freedom as well.
So he stands just a few feet away from where Dean is, and looking into another hooker's eyes he blurts "How much?"
Castiel never talked like that.
"What is your name?" That was the first thing he said to Dean.
"My name is John," he responded, lied.
"Fifty" is this other guy's answer.
It seems a good number. Cheaper than "John" in all senses and maybe it this is exactly what Castiel needs.
He leaves with the cheaper hooker and doesn't look back.
Not even when he feels a certain pair of green eyes burning holes in his back.
(~)
"What is your name?"
"John."
(~)
Castiel is back in the dirty alley.
He looks around for Victor. That is what "fifty" guy is called. Victor is not even remotely as beautiful as "John", but he is all Castiel resigned himself to have.
With Victor Castiel doesn't allow himself to hope, to want. Victor is just a fuck and that is okay. Occasional fucks are still better than excruciating loneliness.
Victor doesn't seem to be around.
But there's a ginger kid under the street light, probably twenty or so, starting toward Castiel with a smirk on his lips. And well since Victor wasn't around… Why not?
But before Castiel can approach the unfamiliar ginger someone pulls him by his arm into the darkness, shoving him against a wall. Castiel can barely make out who is holding him.
He sees glimpses of freckled skin, dirty blond hair and green, green eyes-
John.
The fake name fills his mind making him shiver at the look in the boy's face. It is another edge on Castiel's desire, known that boy is so broken, so lost, and yet so abysmally beautiful.
"Hey Cas" the boy says, low and inviting, only half-turned toward Castiel, enough only to show the rare colour of his eyes.
Unbelievably, breathtaking green…
"What is your name?" Castiel asks, but he doesn't get an answer.
Suddenly there are soft lips on his.
(~)
Castiel strokes the boy, caresses him. He takes the young man apart, because he can, because that boy is beautiful and deserves to be loved, cherished. The boy lets out fractured moans, closing his green eyes and Castiel's body bucks for contact, expression contorted with want. He slick fingers inside the boy, preparing him carefully, slowly, until the boy is begging, swearing, calling Castiel "son of abitch".
He gasps profanities when finally Castiel pushes inside, arching his back, gripping at Castiel's sides.
Dean wants more.
Castiel wants to give him everything.
(~)
"My name is John."
(~)
"What is your name?" Castiel murmurs, legs tangled with Dean's.
The boy stares intently into his eyes and then quirks a brow.
"We met at a diner," he murmurs out of nowhere tearing his gaze from Castiel's. He cuddles closer, resting his head above the older man's chest. "You offered me a slice of pie and a coke because you knew I wasn't old enough to drink."
Castiel stares at the top of the boy head, not opposed to the fantasy. "Apple pie?"
"Apple pie," He nods "And you thought I would say no." The boy seems to be able picture it so very clearly.
"But you didn't."
The boy chuckles "I didn't. And then we spent hours talking about cars and Classic rock." He goes on, "Then I kissed you and I asked if I could come home with you." Hiseyes flick back up to Castiel and he murmurs, "I don't normally do that."
"Of course you don't." Cas cups Dean's face.
"But I did for you." Dean presses his cheek into Castiel's hand, just a little. "And you took me to your apartment, and it was hot, I made you see stars." He stares down at his own hands for a moment. He breathes unevenly.
"I-It was priceless" he murmurs almost inaudibly.
Castiel nods, blue eyes filling with tears.
They arethings he couldn't pay for. He couldn't buy that fantasy, he couldn't make reality.
"And here we are," the boy whispers, chest heaving, voice rough at edge of tears. "Just the two of us, Dean and Cas" His voice is a low murmur with a fine thread of pain through it.
Castiel hesitates, takes several deep breaths so that when he says it his voice comes out perfectly even, perfectly calm.
"Stay."
A/N- Hey guys this is my first Destiel fic, I really hope you liked it! I would love know your thoughts about it! And I also would like to express my gratitude towards my dear MN, that always read my stuff regardless how much it sucks, Charlotte, that helped me to gather courage to actually publish this story, and to the lovely Kaelyn Morton, that so kindly edited this for me.
