General AN: This is just a little PSA/note to anyone who follows my writing in general on ff dot net. My frustrations with some aspects of the site are causing me to switch permanently to ao3 as a means of publishing fics. I won't be publishing any new works on this site, so if you're interested in continuing to read my stuff, you'll have to switch over to my tumblr (jhoomwrites) or ao3 (jhoom) accounts. HOWEVER, because I have a number of unfinished WIPs and series on this site, I will continue to update those until they're complete. That means that the following stories/series WILL continue to be updated on ff dot net: The Mark; Academy Blues; love to hate; What's in a Name?; any fics related to Welcome to SKU. Anything new that I post that is NOT related to those stories will NOT be published here.
AN: just warning you guys that this is the subdrop chapter. if that's not something you want to read without immediately getting to the part that starts trying to fix it, you might want to hold off til the next update comes.
next chapter will be the first (and possibly only?) dean POV in the series
Somehow the next day is worse.
Cas hates waking up alone, but he's feeling more betrayed by the empty side of the bed than usual. Even the little note Dean's left perched on his laptop - Hope you're feeling better :) - doesn't lift his mood much. He tucks the note into his notebook and wonders at the surprising lack of warmth he felt at seeing it.
During his morning run, he's so in his own head that he misjudges the height of a curb and twists his ankle a bit. He's barely a mile away from the apartment, but the trek back causes him nothing but discomfort. It slows him down so much that he actually misses the first bus to campus. And it's not like he can bike there with a sore ankle so he's stuck waiting for the bus.
Which, of course, makes him late to class. Gordon eyes him as he limps up the steps, smiling apologetically at the professor, and all but collapsing into his usual seat.
"You alright dude?"
Castiel shrugs and starts scrambling to get out his notes. He'd been in such a bad mood last night, he hadn't bothered going over the notes Gordon gave him. There's little to no chance he'll understand today's lecture, but he'll dutifully write it all down to muddle through later. "Let's just say today can't get any worse," he grumbles once he's set up.
"Uh, you should knock on wood or something. Don't tempt fate like that."
He only barely manages to bite back a scathing comment that 'fate' can do its worst and it would probably be an improvement for how shitty he feels. Somehow Gordon catches onto his ill temper and takes that as his cue to lighten the mood. His continued commentary on the will-they-won't-they love triangle is humorous and on point, but Castiel can't get into it.
Just before the professor lets them take their break, the TA's step forward and start handing out an exam from last week. Gordon gets his back first and glowers at the grade. The older boy isn't much more econ savvy than Cas himself but usually makes low but passing grades. He completely bombed this test, though.
"Fucking econ, man." His hand flexes as he ignores the impulse to crumple the paper, the edges getting crinkled despite his efforts to relax.
Castiel barely has time to mutter agreement when his own exam is slid onto his desk.
"Bro." Then Gordon whistles. "Told you not to tempt fate man."
There in big red at the top is the first D Castiel has ever received in his entire academic career. And that includes his abysmal cooking performance in Food and Nutrition junior year of high school. He knew he was having problems with the subject matter, but he thought he'd at least eked out a low C…
"Hey." A warm hand on his shoulder helps ground him. He looks up to meet Gordon frowning in concern. "It's just a D. You're still passing the class and there's still a couple weeks before the final. It's not the end of the world."
Castiel nods numbly, blinking back tears and ignoring the way his throat constricts painfully. Gordon's right, but it does nothing to soothe his anxiety or stop the negative voices in his head.
You've always been good at school, never thought you'd get a grade like this. Weren't prepared for it at all.
What else might happen that you don't expect? What else should you be prepared for that you're ignoring?
The rest of the day passes in a haze. If Gordon talks to him, he grunts but doesn't really listen. If the professor speaks, he writes it down but processes none of it. As he hobbles to the bus stop, every broken step is the universe reminding him you're not good enough you're not good enough. The whole ride back, he clings to his backpack and stews in dark thoughts.
Bartholomew's not there when he arrives, strange given the day and time, but Castiel doesn't take advantage of the open living room and kitchen. Instead he grabs a snack, barely paying attention to what he's doing, and slips into Dean's room. Dumping his backpack by the door, he crawls into bed and eats.
He's a little calmer by the time he's done, licking crumbs from his fingers. With a full stomach and a free afternoon ahead of him, the world doesn't seem that bad. So he pulls his laptop into his nest of blankets and watches stupid videos on YouTube and maybe spends way too long on BuzzFeed articles because it numbs his mind and distracts him from the world.
A couple hours later, he's half-dozing while re-watching Mean Girls when his phone beeps at him.
Dean (4:15 pm): hey babe hope you're feeling better
Dean (4:15 pm): bart said he's out of town visiting friends so we've got the place to ourselves
Dean (4:16 pm): wanna have a little fun ;)
A mild arousal simmers in his gut at the prospect. They've had so little time for sex lately (the walls aren't very thick and Dean doesn't want to freak out his roommate with how loud he can get), he finds the prospect would do them both some good. The physical closeness is something he craves right now, and the idea of being able to enjoy his boyfriend's company without distraction has him grinning.
Cas (4:20 pm): I'd like that
Cas (4:21 pm): I'll be ready for you when you get back
Cas (4:21 pm): Sir.
Dean (4:25 pm): mmm atta boy
Dean (4:27 pm): i should be back in maybe two hours? see ya xoxo
Two hours is a lot of time to fill, especially when one's unmotivated and disinterested in doing much of anything. Dean always has specific things in mind, and without any warning as to what those might be, so Castiel busies himself in the shared spaces as well as the bedroom. Then, because he still has some time left, he smirks to himself and pulls out their little box of toys.
The collection isn't as complete as they'd like. Based on the absolutely filthy things Dean's said in the heat of the moment, there's no end to the things he'd like to do to Cas. So far all they have are some vibrators, dildos, and plugs. He's thinking about getting Dean some anal beads for Christmas (it seemed inappropriate as a housewarming gift, despite how much Dean might like them), but until then they're limited to what's here.
Grabbing one of the thicker plugs and lube, he sets to opening himself for Dean's later enjoyment.
As his fingers brush along his prostate, Castiel shivers. Not in pleasure, but at the worrisome absence of pleasure. He's barely half-hard and all his actions are perfunctory at best. The momentary spike of arousal he'd experienced when Dean first texted him has long since waned, and even the thought of what might come later can't bring it back.
That's the problem. Dean's not here. Once Dean's here I'll be fine.
Once he works the plug into place, Castiel decides to wait in the living room and order dinner. He flips through the drawer of carry-out menus in the kitchen, finally settling on a deep dish pizza place a few blocks over. All that's left is to wait, so he putters around the apartment and even pretends to read over his notes until a knock at the door saves him.
Castiel grabs some cash from his wallet as he rushes over, opening the door only to be greeted by a very familiar set of green eyes leering at him suggestively.
"Pizza man."
It takes him a moment to recover from the image of Dean leaning in the doorway, holding up two steaming pizza boxes and licking his lips like he's not at all interested in the meal in hand. "How much do I owe you?" he purrs, playing along with this ridiculous scenario.
"Oh, I don't accept cash. But if you have any other ways of repaying me, I'm sure we could work something out."
"You're terrible." Cas swats playfully at Dean's chest before taking the pizza boxes and leading the way into the apartment.
"I think you mean I'm awesome." His bag gets abandoned by the door as he toes off his shoes and runs a hand through his hair. "Man am I looking forward to this evening. Haven't gotten you all to myself in like months."
"That's a slight exaggeration." He bends over to put down the pizzas, only to find strong arms wrapping around his waist as he stands up. "But I'm not complaining."
"Good." A wet kiss is placed on his neck before Dean disappears. "I'm gonna grab some plates."
Excitement's radiating off Dean, and Castiel's surprised the other boy can wait until dinner's done before he pulls Cas into his lap right there on the couch and starts kissing him. But Dean ignores his obvious eagerness and slowly lavishes attention on Castiel's mouth. The intensity stays muted for a while, more about exploration and enjoyment than pushing things along. It's pleasant and exactly what he's been craving.
Dean's hands start to wonder. He massages the back of Castiel's neck before moving on and finally resting at his hips. Then he pushes up into him, a slight rocking motion that makes it painfully obvious how hard his boyfriend is underneath him. Castiel's body reacts - and it's only then that he notices he's still soft - and a moan escapes his lips.
"Good boy." A few more kisses before Dean pulls away. "Stand up and undress for me." Then he nudges Cas until he's on his feet.
It doesn't take long for him to undress under Dean's watchful eye. Once naked, Dean leans back on the couch and motions for Castiel to turn around. Cas obeys, doing a slow circle to the right. He's never been self-conscious in front of Dean. It's been pretty clear from day one that Dean finds him physically attractive. Even with the panties and the women's clothes back during Pledge Week, nothing's ever made Dean look at him with disgust or mockery.
Things aren't any different now. He skin buzzes in anticipation as he starts to show his back. He waits eagerly for the moment when Dean will see the end of the plug-
A sharp inhale punctuates Dean's discovery. A hand reaches out to still his movement, another fingering around the end before forcefully pushing it even deeper. He gasps and feels his erection twitch.
"Mmm looks like you got started without me." Dean abruptly stands up right behind him, the movement nearly knocking Cas over. Dean catches him before he can fall, only to force him to bend over the coffee table. His hands brace on the hard wood as Dean manhandles his ass higher and his shoulders lower. "Can't have that now can we?"
The first slap is such a surprise that his whole body juts forward, only to be pulled back and held firmly in place by Dean. The second is a natural follow-up to the first. Just as hard but he's expecting it. The next few don't faze him, merely a continuation of a long drawn out moment of pain.
Dean gently caresses his ass, no doubt red and angry from the attention, before moving his hands to cup his hips. He thrusts a few times against him. "Did you come when you worked this into you?" Dean asks as he wiggles the end a bit.
"No, sir."
Another slap, though not as hard as the previous ones. "Good. I'm still going to have to punish you, but it won't have to be as bad this time. I might even let you come if you're good for me."
Goosebumps rise on Castiel's arms.
"Hmm how many do you think would be an adequate punishment?"
"I don't know, sir." And he doesn't. He wants to please Dean, to let him have his fun and exert control until he's satisfied and will take care of Castiel. But they've not done much spanking before. Hell, they've already outdone any previous forays into this type of physical abuse, so he has no idea what Dean wants to hear. "Ten?"
"Are you askin' or tellin'?"
"I'm telling you, sir. Ten is a good number."
Dean considers, fingers wandering up and down Cas' thighs as he does so. "I think you're right. You were just trying to get yourself ready for me and be a good boy. Ten is more than reasonable." He shifts behind him and Castiel can sense him preparing to slap him again. "Count them out for me, would ya?"
By the end, his ass is sore and he's not sure if he likes that or not. In the past, he's enjoyed Dean marking him in ways that he'll be able to see or feel later and remember their shared intimacy. Now, though, it seems out of place and almost wrong.
The sting fades into the background as the plug is removed and cool fingers replace them. He sighs in relief, easing into Dean's touch as he applies more lube and makes sure he's stretched enough. "You ready?"
For some reason the question grates on Cas' nerves. He knows Dean's trying to be thoughtful, but his boyfriend must know he's ready. Does he doubt Castiel's ability to take him?
But all that comes out is a terse, "Yes."
And then Dean's fucking him. It's glorious at first as he waits for Cas to adjust. His thrusts drag in and out, hit him just right. But then Dean's fingers dig into the flesh just below his hips and he starts pounding into him.
It shouldn't bother him. They've had sex almost exactly like this a dozen times. But it does. His mind scrambles to try and explain it, to grasp at understanding his increasing discomfort. It's just… He doesn't want this. Sex yes, but it's so rough and uncaring and distant. This isn't how boyfriends are supposed to treat each other, is it?
He tries, but he soon finds he can't even stay hard, which only builds on his distress.
Dean kisses along his back, between his shoulder blades, laps at his ear. A hand reaches around to stroke him. His pace falters a little. "Cas…?"
The hand enclosed around his cock is warm and would be comforting, except that it now brings attention to how unenthusiastic a partner he is. That's the tipping point for Cas, the final push that makes it all crash around him. Because he's a terrible partner. If their entire relationship is built on good sex and he can't even provide that, what good is he?
He doesn't answer, can't around the lump in his throat. But the tears start spilling over, running freely down his cheeks.
"Cas, baby, what's wrong?"
When he notices the tears, Dean hisses in surprise. He pulls out and Cas sobs at the loss, collapsing onto the table. Why couldn't he hold it together and just be good enough for Dean?
"You okay? What happened? Did I- Did I hurt you?" Hearing Dean freaking out only makes it worse as his whole body shakes as he weeps. "Cas, talk to me, please-"
Dean's hand makes contact with him and he jerks away as though he's been burned. His skin's crawling, over sensitive to even the air in the room to the point that even Dean's soothing touch is too much. "Don't touch me!" he whimpers. "I can't… Can't… Don't…"
"Okay." There's a certain desperation in Dean's voice that he's never heard before. He wonders vaguely if this is what Dean would sound like if he were truly begging for something. "But please, Castiel, tell me what I can do to help."
"I don't know." Anything else he might want to say is drowned out by the pained noises he can no longer hold back.
Eventually through breathless pleas, Dean manages to get Cas to the bedroom. He's careful not to make contact, giving Cas the space he's demanded. The closest he gets is when he wraps the blankets around him, hands lingering through the barrier provided by the blanket. But the touch is fleeting. Cas' body both longs for more and rebels against the very idea.
He burrows as deeply as he can into the blankets, forcing in huge lungfulls of his and Dean's combined scent. It's surprisingly effective at calming him. Soon the shivers and crying stop, and he lets himself drift off into oblivion.