Written for Fan Flashworks challenge #114: Chemistry. This story has been edited to comply with this website's content policies. I am also having issues with the arrows displaying correctly as I can't post images. I seriously recommend reading on either AO3 or LJ.
Dean Winchester + Katie Fletcher -{teenage hormones}- awakening
Katie was the first girl he had taken to a school dance, insofar as it was a Sadie Hawkins, and she actually asked him. He was new in town (as ever) and he was hot, she was smoking, and they hit things off pretty much straight away. She was a cheerleader and knew exactly what she wanted, both in taking the best looking guy in school to the dance and afterwards when she took him back to her place.
"My folks are away," she said suggestively as she pulled him inside by his lapels. He stumbled and landed with his lips on hers, pulling her body to his tightly, revelling in the feel of her breasts pressing up against him, her clever tongue working against his, the filthy groan she made as she rubbed herself against his leg.
He slid his hand across the slippery fabric of her dress, fingers caressing her curves as he sought skin. Inevitably, he found the zipper and gave it an experimental tug, deliberately and obviously, just in case she wasn't as up for it as he thought.
She slid her hand down the front of his pants in response. "What you waiting for, Winchester?" she purred. "An engraved invitation?"
He tried for a cocky grin, and wasn't sure he pulled it off. Her hand was on his cock, and it was kind of short-circuiting most of his brain. He was in serious danger of losing his cool here.
"Not any more, babe," he said, impressing himself with how steady his voice sounded. Maybe he had managed the cheeky grin too.
He slid the zipper down and Katie allowed the dress to drop to the floor in a puddle of blue satin to reveal winter-pale skin and a baby pink bra with matching panties. And even without the assistance of her hand, his cock was becoming uncomfortable in his pants. In fact, he was wearing far too many clothes – it wasn't gentlemanly to leave a lady feeling under-dressed. So he shed the stupid, too-stiff shirt and his undershirt hastily, and tried not to preen as her eyes raked hungrily over his chest. Even though he didn't play any sports (like he had the time do to crap like that), he was aware that he was pretty well built for a guy their age – the width of his shoulders alone easily let him pass for twenty-one.
As he unbuttoned his pants, she put a hand on his chest. He paused, confused, and looked up at her.
"You got a condom?"
This time, the smile he gave her was entirely genuine. "Sure thing, baby." He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out the shiny packet he knew would come in handy one day.
She opened up his pants and pushed them and his shorts down towards his knees. "Thank fuck. Hmm, aren't you a big boy? You're going to feel so good inside me."
She guided him back towards a sofa. His knees buckled when he reached it, and he found himself sitting with his nose level with pink silk. His hands automatically came up and teased under the waistband, pulling them down and revealing, in real life rather than skin mags, her pussy.
.oOo.
Katie might not have been the epic romance of all time, she might have used him shamelessly, but at least she showed Dean a thing or two about the ins and outs of a woman's body. And she also showed him what not to do in terms of afterglow: Dean wasn't particularly touchy-feely, and hugging and shit was far too chick-flick for his tastes, but kicking someone out right after the act was a big no-no in his book. Afterglow was to be savoured, retaining that feeling that everything was right with the world, even if it was just for a few minutes. And helping the lady get her things afterwards, and making sure she could get home okay was just gentlemanly, really: Dean might have just about raised himself, but at least he had some manners.
Dean Winchester + Rhonda Hurley -{GED tutoring}- kinks
"Put them on."
Dean's eyes widened. "What?"
Rhonda's long, chocolate legs uncurled and she got up off her bed, holding the offending article out to him.
"Put. Them. On." she repeated, more firmly, then smirked. "Unless you're afraid of a little pair of panties?"
He snatched them from her hand. "Fine."
He shucked his jeans and boxers quickly and tugged the slippery little things up his legs. If this is what it would take to get Rhonda out of that bra, then he could do this. Not like he was sticking around much longer – who was she going to tell? But he would never live with himself if he missed out on getting laid because he was too chicken to wear women's underwear.
But as he tucked himself into the pink monstrosities, the silk moved over his sensitive skin and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the involuntary moan at the feel of it. Why had no-one told him about this before?
"Feeling emasculated yet, big boy?" Rhonda asked, still smirking at him.
"No." Even Dean heard the crack in his voice, standing there in nothing but a pair of pink panties, holding his junk snugly in the smoothest material ever. He shifted his weight and the silk whispered over his skin, shooting sparks up and down his spine.
"Good," she purred, apparently taking his denial at face value but he knew her better. "Let's see if we can change that."
.oOo.
Rhonda had given him an education beyond simple Chemistry (her college major) – she had taught him the pleasures of eating out a girl, the first experience of having a girl come while he was inside her, and possibly most importantly, introduced him to a couple of kinks: the panties, and that he actually liked following instructions in the bedroom. She had been in charge, and every order she had given had gotten him harder and harder, until he had come in those panties. That was so dirty in all the right ways, and he had gotten hard again almost right away when she had peeled the soiled, sodden underwear from him and licked him clean.
But it had been chemistry and nothing else with Rhonda, and things fizzled out even before Dean left town, not long after he sat the exams for his GED. Neither of them had wanted anything other than a good time, and they parted on good terms, with some excellent memories.
Dean Winchester + Lisa Braedon -{freedom}- passion
Lisa had been something different to Dean's usual pick-up. Normally, when he was on the road with Dad, he would pick up some good-looking but vacuous chick who was easily impressed by his charm and rugged handsomeness. It had been his first time striking out on his own, and for fun rather than a job, so he had decided to try someone a little different. Lisa had laughed at the line he had used at first, but accepted his apology and for possibly the first time ever, Dean actually sat and talked with a girl in a bar. Turned out she was supposed to be meeting a friend for some drinks to celebrate Lisa's new job, and had been stood up. Dean offered his cell phone, and it turned out that the friend's kid was sick and she hadn't wanted to leave him with the sitter.
Lisa was pretty and witty and something just seemed to click between them. Knowing that he didn't have his dad waiting back at the motel, ready to berate him for wasting time on the job, Dean took his time with Lisa. When she took him back to her place, he spent a great deal of the night worshipping her gorgeous body the way she deserved. Dean had enjoyed pleasing his partner, even before Rhonda's masterclass, but there was something about Lisa that seemed to sweep them into some other dimension together, where it was just them and the passion they made. Nothing else beyond the walls of Lisa's bedroom mattered; beyond the place where their cries of ecstasy echoed all around them and the goddess he was with trembled with pleasure again and again.
He was sorry to leave Lisa, sorry that he wasn't brave enough to tell her the truth. But that had always been the rule, and both him and his dad stuck to it. And Sammy was probably doing that too, because Dean didn't doubt that his Stanford buds would think he was a lunatic if he ever spilled about the family business. Anyway, Sammy was out, and Dean respected that. And if ever there was a girl who Dean might have been tempted to leave the life for, it would have been Lisa. But even she wasn't enough to assuage the guilty conscience he knew he would have if he stopped hunting and people died because of it.
Didn't stop it hurting, though, as he drove away from her when his weekend was up.
Dean Winchester + Cassie Robinson -{honesty}- disaster
Dean avoided intelligent women like the plague after Lisa, afraid that he might start to fall again, and have all that hurt when he had to leave them. Because he would always have to leave, because there was always something else in the country that would start chowing down on humans and Dean would have to head out. Or, you know, when the job ended since Dad would never stick around just because Dean was chasing some tail. He wouldn't understand.
But Cassie was gorgeous, a senior at college and smart as all hell. Like Lisa, she had laughed at his lame opening line, and bought him a drink anyway. Her eyes were open and warm, and there was something about her that intrigued him beyond her body.
Cassie was quick-tempered, and over the two weeks they knew each other, they fought over more things than should have been possible in such a short period of time. But the make-up sex was phenomenal, their chemistry was amazing, and she was so sharp he wanted to tell her the truth. And this time, he wasn't going to make the same mistake he did with Lisa, because if he kept pushing women away, he was going to end up lonely and bitter like Dad. He wanted someone to share his life with, perhaps someone he could come home to and have a place away from the insanity that was hunting. Cassie was smart enough to realise that everything he wanted to tell her was the truth, right?
.oOo.
"What?"
Apparently not.
"Cas, I know it sounds crazy," he said, looking earnestly up at her from the bed, "but it's the truth."
She looked down at him with a scowl, her arms folding tightly to her breasts. "Dean, if you want to leave, just go. I'm not going to stop you."
"Why the hell would I make something like that up?" Dean demanded desperately. "Believe me, if I wanted to leave you, Cas, I would just leave. I have never told anyone the truth before. I want this to be something I can share with you."
She picked up his pants and threw them at him, a look of utter disgust on her face. "Boy, I have heard some stories in my time," she spat, "but that is the most impressive pile of crap ever. Just get out, Dean."
She plucked more clothes from the floor viciously and threw them at his face. "Don't call me again."
.oOo.
Dean had learned that he shouldn't get too close from his experience with Lisa. Cassie reinforced that lesson painfully, along with the knowledge that Dad was right and he couldn't trust anyone with the secret. Hunters didn't get happy family lives: that wasn't something that was on the cards for him and he just had to accept it.
Dean Winchester + Anna Milton -{last night on Earth}- desperation
Anna wasn't particularly anything special: she wasn't stunning, and her being a journalism major was eerily similar to Cassie. He probably wouldn't have looked twice at her if she hadn't been exactly who, or rather what she was. Plus she had that whole angel thing counting against her, because if she got her grace back like they were planning, she would turn into a dick. Probably a bigger dick than Castiel and Uriel, given that she had been their boss before her fall.
But there was a possibility that she wouldn't, given that she had fallen because of her desire to feel the way humans felt. She had fallen to feel the closeness that humanity could offer.
Whichever way things turned out for Anna, it was her last night as a human and he wasn't going to say no to her. She deserved some fun – to go out with a bang.
Given that her brothers had no sex drive at all, and, you know, angel, Dean wasn't expecting much from Anna. She was surprisingly un-vanilla, up for anything Dean could think of that would be possible in the confines of the back seat. She was about as unangelic as Dean imagined it possible to be, and he was truly sorry when he did spill to Uriel where they were, and make the deal that would eventually lead them to snagging her grace back. He was an utter shit.
Anna taught him that he didn't deserve for anyone to love him because he treated them like crap and made their lives miserable simply by being a part of it. Anna might be safer with her grace than without, but she was no happier. She had given up the thing she had fallen for, and some of that was Dean's fault. Castiel should have left him in hell where he couldn't hurt anyone but those who were already damned.
Dean Winchester + Castiel -{six years of friendship}- love
Cas was under Dean's skin before he even realised it. Cas was a part of his life, and deny it all he wanted, but his life was nothing when Cas wasn't there. His life would be nothing if Cas stopped being there.
It had been hard enough when the Leviathan took him, and Dean had lived for months thinking that Cas was dead, walking around in a waking trance, moving from one disaster to the next but feeling nothing but numb.
Having Cas' hand ripped away from him in Purgatory had nearly ended Dean. He couldn't cope with the knowledge that Cas had chosen to leave him; to the point that his mind had actually edited his recollection to make it seem like an accident. It was easier for him to believe that Cas was simply stuck than to know that Cas had chosen to leave him; had chosen to remain behind as a punishment for his crimes against both humanity and Heaven.
The knowledge that Cas was dying, even now, was too much for Dean to bear sometimes. He would wake in a cold sweat whenever he dreamed about Cas dying – a dream that was becoming more and more frequent now that they had finally acknowledged that there was something between them.
The first time Dean had finally realised what he had been trying to avoid for so long, the first time he had reached out and truly touched Castiel, felt the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips, the whisper of the sigh that escaped him; it was a homecoming. It was nothing like any of the women in his life. They all paled into insignificance beside this angel – this man – who had been there with Dean though hell – literally – and was still standing at his side. This angel who understood more than he let on and was willing to tolerate the rest for the sake of their love. Because that's what they had. Dean had thought he was in love with Lisa; he had thought he was in love with Cassie, but he had been fooling himself, because what he felt for them was nothing compared to Castiel: Cas soothed his soul, made Dean's life complete. Cas was like having another part of his being in a different body. Dean actually thought sappy shit when Cas was around, and wasn't ashamed of it.
Even the sex was something more: Dean's experiences with women was very varied and he had never failed to have a good time, but sex with Cas was on a whole new level. There was something beyond just the physical, like together they reached a new plane of existence, like the very essences of their beings connected as they moved together, like this was something that should be treasured until the end of time. Time with Cas would be Dean's heaven now, because he would be a happy man if he could live with his angel for the rest of eternity.
But he would want the angel himself, living at his side in Heaven, not a pale, memory-shadow of him, because that was utter bullshit and memories paled in comparison to actually experiencing their love-making, or even the simple act of being together. And that was never going to happen unless Dean did something to sort this bullshit with Cas' grace out.
Dean had learned something from each of his previous lovers, but lying in Cas' arms, watching the angel sleep; his face relaxed for once, Dean realised that Cas had taught him the most important lesson of all – Cas had taught him how to want, and how to be selfish. Castiel had given him something that he wanted to keep for himself forever, and he would fight for that to happen. Castiel had given him a reason to fight, not only for Cas' life, but for his own. Dean would never succumb to the Mark of Cain again, because he didn't belong to it any more – he belonged to Castiel.