This chapter is from Dean's POV – prepare for Destiel action!
When his family had randomly decided to relocate to Heaven, Dean had actually felt relieved.
The city was stifling, full of idiots who always picked fights with him and judgemental pricks who couldn't handle his attitude or bisexuality. He had never cared about his education, mainly because he already had a job at Bobby's scrap yard lined up after graduation (and graduation wasn't even required). Consequently, Dean had found himself lumped in with the addicts and the delinquents, the kids who would never pass school and didn't particularly care anyway. For a while, he had tried to stay separate from them – but having no friends was lonely, and if you can't beat them, join them.
John didn't really care what Dean did – he favoured Sam, the son with great prospects and the 'right' group of friends. True, the two argued like cats and dogs, but John had this respect for Sam that Dean wasn't privy to. So when Dean had given in and slid off the rails, John wasn't there to pull Dean back on again.
Dean saw this move as his chance to crawl back out of the hole he had dug himself into. Not all the way – he would die before giving up his cigarettes or actually trying at school – but at least he should be able to get out of dealing in a new town where no-one knew he carried drugs.
Sam had shouted at Dean when he had shrugged off their move like he didn't care, claiming that he was throwing his life away. Dean had struggled not to admit everything to Sam then – that he owed money to the wrong people, that he sold drugs to pay debts and that last month he hadn't been at a long sleepover with a mate, he had been chucked in jail after being found stupidly drunk collapsed on the streets. He had considered himself lucky to get off with just a warning and a request to attend classes for alcoholics (although no way in hell was that happening).
Even so, there was a difference between being relieved at escaping somewhere and actually wanting to go to the new place.
When Dean had arrived in Heaven, tired and absolutely dying for a smoke, he had instantly labelled the place as a dump. It was quiet, calm, and utterly boring. This was the sort of town filled with religious assholes who would get at him for his lifestyle more than the guys back home.
It hadn't helped that his mood was black because he couldn't find his lighter – and he would be damned if he went back and had to beg one off John. Irritated, Dean had stormed down the hill to try and find a store that might believe he was a bit older than he was so he could buy a new one – and instead he had found something that changed his opinion of the town forever.
Castiel.
Down in the valley beyond the town there was a small park – nothing special, and too full of screaming little kids for Dean's liking. But there had also been a crowd of teenagers, and one of them had caught Dean's attention straight away.
He had messy black sex-hair sticking up at all angles, and been dressed in a long beige trench-coat that would have screamed 'paedophile' had the guy looked more than sixteen. He was looking away, but he had an aura of toughness that Dean hadn't expected – and best of all, the stream of smoke suggested that he was smoking a cigarette.
His need for a smoke overriding any hesitation about approaching the guy, Dean had plonked himself down beside him and pulled out a joint of his own.
"Got a lighter?" He asked, holding it out.
The guy turned, expressive blue eyes focusing intently on Dean. Dean felt himself gasp – he had never seen eyes so blue, and he thought he could drown in their gaze.
Holy crap. He was turning into a tween girl.
Finally, the guy's eyes flickered to the joint in Dean's hand and his lips twitched.
"Is that cannabis?"
Dean frowned. "Is that a problem?" He asked, an edge to his voice.
The guy's mouth curved into a smile. "Not if you share." He held a lighter up to the joint and lit it, before stuffing it into one of the coat's numerous pockets. "I'm Castiel."
Dean took a drag, the heady mixture instantly soothing his nerves. "Dean Winchester. Moved here today."
Castiel's eyes lit up in interest. "You're Dean Winchester? I'm impressed. I was expecting someone... more hipster."
Dean was surprised. "You heard about me? The hell did you hear about me?"
Castiel laughed, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it away. "I'm a Novak. My family makes up about half the population of this place, so we hear everything. One of my uncles is in charge of the removals company and my second cousin runs the real estate. They mentioned your family at some family dinner, but you sounded like a stuck up city kid. No offence."
Dean another drag from his joint before offering it to Castiel, who accepted it with a smile. "Nah. I couldn't hang out with those kids, their taste in music is crap. Not to mention their dress sense – who the hell wears ankle swingers deliberately, for fucks sake."
Castiel grinned. "I like you, Dean Winchester."
"Must be my incredible good looks." Dean quipped, pulling out a proper cigarette this time and gesturing to Castiel to pass the lighter.
Castiel took a drag from Dean's joint, his eyes raking Dean's body up and down. "Well, they're certainly a bonus." He replied, winking before chucking the lighter over.
Dean felt his heart rate increase. Was Castiel interested? Back in the city, it was practically impossible to find someone willing to admit in an interest in members of the same sex – but Castiel certainly seemed like he was checking Dean out.
"You gay?" Dean asked, not one to worry about asking these things.
Castiel shrugged. "Bisexual, but I'm quite... selective. I don't just go around dating anyone who looks at me a certain way."
Dean lit his cigarette and turned away. It didn't bother him to be rejected – he was quite used to it. He barely knew Castiel anyway.
But Castiel wasn't finished. "For you, though, I might make an exception."
Dean turned back to Castiel, surprised. "Oh yeah?"
"Mmm." Castiel licked his lips.
A slow, seductive smirk made its way across Dean's face. "Well, baby, you're going to have to try harder than that. Dean Winchester doesn't just fall for anyone."
Castiel's eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge, Winchester?"
Dean leant in, his face just inches from Castiel's.
"Well, if you don't think you can handle me..."
With a growl, Castiel grabbed Dean's face with one hand and gave him a fierce kiss, the passion so strong it took all Dean's willpower not to just surrender to it.
Castiel pulled back and looked at Dean's swollen lips and enlarged pupils.
"Why, Dean Winchester, I believe it would be you who can't handle me."
That was it. The game was on.
Dean didn't see Castiel again until the next day at school. He had considered not bothering to go – the first day back was always awful, and at a new school as a sophomore it was likely to be even worse. But Sam was walking to school with him, so he figured he could go today – he just might not bother going for the rest of the week.
He was glad he chose to go when he found himself ambushed and pinned against the wall behind a clump of trees by a seductive looking Castiel.
"You're early." Castiel purred, and Dean could feel his eyes threatening to close. That voice. It sounded like Castiel had eaten gravel for breakfast, and Dean's dick was apparently very fond of the deep pitch. "I didn't expect you to arrive early."
Dean struggled to keep his voice level, trying to flash a seductive smile back. "My geek little brother insisted – and of course, it's worth it to tease you again."
"Tease me?" Castiel's voice seemed to sink even lower, and Dean fought to stop his knees trembling. "I think you'll find that it's my job to tease you."
With a surge of strength, Dean flipped around so that Castiel was pinned against the wall instead of him. He pressed in, laying quick kisses along Castiel's jawline until he reached one ear.
"You'll have to try harder than that." He whispered, running one hand down Castiel's chest and stopping just above his crotch.
Castiel growled, his eyes flashing, and Dean winked at him before slipping around the corner and joining the throng of people heading to class. Apparently, the bell had gone off while they were outside and he had been too preoccupied to notice.
The day passed smoothly, although Castiel kept appearing at random moments and whispering inappropriate things in Dean's ears. By the end of the day, he had taken to carrying a book in front at him at all times so his half-hard dick didn't catch anyone's attention.
When the final bell rang, Dean almost raced out of class and slipped into the hiding place he had discovered at lunch – in the grove around the bins – and waited for Castiel.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later Castiel appeared, a glint in his eyes and his hair even messier than it had been earlier.
"I know you're here, Dean." He called, his voice rough. "I'm disappointed you're giving up already."
Quick as a flash, Dean pinned Castiel against one of the trees, his eyes wild. "Oh, I'm not giving up." He purred. "I'm just getting started."
Castiel relaxed, a smirk appearing on his face. "Get on with it then. I haven't got all day."
Dean glared at Castiel, before surging in and claiming his lips in a kiss.
Really, calling it a kiss wasn't doing it justice. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, a dirty battle of passion which neither boy was going to lose. Dean's hands quickly moved to the front of Cas's trenchcoat, undoing all the buttons to allow access to the clothes underneath. In return, Castiel's hands slipped beneath Dean's leather jacket, nails raking down the back of his plaid shirt.
When the two needed to breath, Dean refused to stop kissing, instead moving to lightly brush his lips down Castiel's neck, pausing just above his collarbone to leave a hickey. Cas hissed, and Dean allowed himself to grin triumphantly before he was pulled up to meet Castiel's lips once more.
"Do you want to take this somewhere else?" He asked in between kisses, his voice coming out wrecked.
"Thought you would never ask." Castiel replied, practically pulling Dean away from the school and down the road.
"Where are we going?" Dean asked, not recognising the area of town they were going down.
"I know an empty house. My father owns it, he uses it as a retreat sometimes, but he's at home now and no-one else ever goes there. I thought we could use some alone time."
Dean felt a groan rising up in his throat. "You have the best ideas, Cas."
"Cas?" Castiel asked confused, slowing to a walk as the pair turned into a side street.
"You don't like it?" Dean asked, concerned he'd overstepped the mark.
Cas stopped, before turning to Dean and giving him an absolutely filthy kiss. "I love it." He murmured, before setting off at a run again.
It wasn't much longer before they reached a small, yellow-walled house, and Cas pulled out a key before quickly unlocking the door and pulling Dean inside.
"Finally," He murmured, pushing Dean back against the door and resuming their earlier kiss.
Castiel's trenchcoat was quickly discarded, along with Dean's jacket, and Castiel groaned as he undid Dean's shirt to find a t-shirt underneath.
"Layers, dude. So many layers." Cas complained.
Dean laughed. "At least I'm not the with a fucking suit on." He replied, pushing Castiel's suit jacket off his shoulders. "You're wearing a tie and everything."
"Too much talking." Castiel growled in reply, finally working Dean's shirt off and ripping the t-shirt off too.
Castiel quickly moved to layer kisses down Dean's body, and Dean moaned, momentarily distracted from his task of removing Cas's shirt.
"Fuck, for someone who said he didn't do this much, you're fucking good at this." Dean ground out, his head falling back against the door.
Castiel chuckled. "Wish I could say the same for you." He replied cheekily.
Dean lost it.
With a growl, he shoved Castiel back until his back met the sofa, before pushing him down onto it and moving to crouch over him. Cas's shirt was discarded and Dean moved down his chest, leaving hickeys in his wake, until he reached the belt off Castiel's trousers.
"Off." He hissed, and Castiel obeyed, his long fingers undoing the buckle on his belt and shoving the trousers down to his knees. Dean quickly started to mouth at Cas through his boxers, pleased to note that he was already hard.
"Fuck, Dean, take them off... take them off goddamnit!" Castiel yelled, and Dean smirked, refusing to give in to Cas's demands.
"Dean, if you don't finish undressing me right now, I won't reciprocate, and I'll padlock your hands so you can't jack off either."
Dean paused. "You have handcuffs?" He asked inquisitively.
Castiel used the reprieve to pull his own boxers down, revealing his impressive, already leaking dick.
"Shut the fuck up and blow me." He demanded.
Dean couldn't exactly deny that request.
Moving quickly, he wrapped one hand around Castiel's length before lowering his mouth to the tip. He started giving kitten licks, teasing Castiel and enjoying the frustrated moans he gave out, before finally moving the tip into his mouth and sucking.
Castiel moaned, only avoiding bucking up with some serious restraint.
Dean moved his other hand to Castiel's hip to pin him there, before starting to bob his head up and down, alternating the suction to figure out what Cas liked best. Below him, Cas writhed, desperately trying to get Dean to take him down further. Obliging, Dean relaxed his throat and carefully took down another inch, enjoying the resultant moan that Cas gave out.
Dean only had a slight warning – a shout of "Dean!" – before Castiel was coming down his throat, the bitter, salty taste making him cough slightly as Castiel slid out of his mouth. He worked to swallow everything, making a face as he licked the stickiness from around his mouth.
Cas had gone boneless, lying back against the sofa with a blessed-out look on his face. Dean sighed as he felt his own hardness demand to be released.
Cas suddenly seemed to remember where he was, and with a strength that Dean wasn't expecting he flipped them over so that he was on top.
"My turn." He commented, his voice shaky, before he dropped down and yanked Dean's jeans and boxers off in one motion.
Cas's hands were slightly uncertain as they gripped Dean, and he wondered if Cas had ever done this before – until his thoughts turned to mush as Castiel took him halfway down in one motion.
"Holy- "
Dean's words turned into a jumbled mess as Castiel started moving, stroking Dean's balls as his mouth slid up and down Dean's length.
It was an embarrassingly short time before Dean was coming, surging up off the sofa with a yell as Castiel pulled back, leaving sticky white come all over his face.
Had he been in any kind of coherent state, Dean would have found the sight incredibly hot. As it was, he could only lie there as Cas went to fetch some paper towels to clear up the mess.
"We should do this again some time." Were Dean's first words when he regained the power of speech.
Castiel just smiled, curling up into Dean's side. And if the pair returned to that house every day for the next week, that was no-one's business but theirs.
