By Monday, Castiel's head is still messed up. He hasn't seen nor spoken to Dean since that Saturday – no cell number to contact him with, and that's why it's so weird that they seem to be fucking dating right now – and it's not until lunch that he does see him.
Or, well, less sees him, and more is pulled into an empty, darkened classroom by him and sat down on the edge of the teacher's desk.
"Hi there," Dean murmurs, smirk in his voice and hands already slipping underneath Cas' sweater.
Cas laughs softly, lifting his arms to allow Dean to take off the top. "Hello, Dean," he replies. "I haven't seen you all day."
"Yeah," Dean says absently, mouth pressing light, open mouthed kisses to Cas' neck. "Was busy. Here now, though, and the door's locked and the curtains are closed and why are you still not naked, baby?"
Cas laughs again, feels the worry fade away from his body with each touch of Dean's fingers to his skin, with each press of Dean's lips against his neck and jaw and mouth. He uses his own hands to take off Dean's t-shirt, kicking off his shoes while he does it so that he can take his shorts off straight afterwards. Dean quickly shucks off his jeans before diving back into Castiel, fitting in the slot between Cas' legs, kissing him deep and filthy, pushing their hips together tantalisingly.
Dean's kisses become deeper, longer, more tongue and teeth, his hips working faster and his erection pressing hard against the tent in Cas' boxers. Cas meets him thrust for thrust, hands raking blunt marks into Dean's back, and it's great and hot but he also wants more, more, more. He pulls back reluctantly and is met by Dean's confused gaze.
"Can we –" Cas starts, cutting himself off and pulling his bottom lip between his incisors. Dean is no longer rocking his hips now, he's just looking at Castiel imploringly, uncomprehendingly. Cas breathes in deep and just says it. "Do you think you could fuck me, please?"
It's like all of Dean's breath rushes out at once. Cas wants this, so much, so freaking bad. He wants to have Dean finger him open, wants to have Dean pushing into him, feeling open and filled up at the same time, fucked into by Dean's dick and bent in half. He wants Dean's marks on him, wants Dean's mark inside of him. He knows it's stupid to want this now, during a school lunch period, in an empty classroom with his classmates roaming the halls just outside. He knows it's idiotic and reckless and so not him, but he wants it anyway.
He wants Dean anyway.
"You sure you want that?" Dean asks, breathless even as his hands grip convulsively against the backs of Cas' thighs. Cas can only nod and hold his breath while he waits for Dean to answer. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, yeah, Cas, we can. God, baby, want you so bad."
Dean's hands are at the waist of Cas' underwear, pulling them down past his knees and then letting them drop to the floor. He works on his own next, stepping out of them and pressing back into Cas, his cock hard against his stomach, pressing hotly against Castiel's and eliciting loud moans from both of them. Dean's fingers curl around the backs of Cas' thighs, pulling slightly and making Cas shift forwards, so that his ass is perched right on the edge and Cas has to wrap his legs around Dean's waist to keep upright.
"Dean," Cas breathes, eyes closed as Dean sucks more marks into his neck. "Dean, please, soon, we don't have much time."
"No, Cas," he affirms, and Cas accidentally lets out an almost petulant whine. Dean chuckles slightly under his breath, breaking and catching in his throat when Cas rolls his hips as motivation for Dean to get a fucking move on. "Cas, no. I'm gonna take my sweet time, ok darlin'?" Dean moves his lips to the spot underneath Cas' jaw that makes his toes curl and his cock twitch against his stomach, and his next words are pressed against Cas' skin. "You deserve that, at least."
Cas' breath hitches. He stops the movements of his hips, goes all but still in Dean's arms, and after a second he opens his eyes to find Dean staring straight at him, a vulnerability hiding in his irises but Castiel is close enough that he can see it. His hands move to cup Dean's jaw.
"Ok."
Dean smiles briefly before kissing Cas again, slower than before. He slips his tongue in, curls it around Castiel's, starts rolling his hips slowly and fluidly, taking his time even though they really do have to be fast, because lunch will be over soon.
The thought makes him want to burst out laughing. Lunch will be over soon. Holy shit, he's about to lose his virginity during lunch hour. How is this his life?
Dean growls in the back of his throat and presses even closer, like he wants to actually sink into Castiel's skin, and Castiel realises that if this is his life, then he's pretty damn happy about it.
"Can't believe this is happening, baby," Dean murmurs, hands skirting down Cas' side, one holding onto one of Cas' thighs and keeping his legs in place, the other dropping to his cock, brushing over it agonisingly lightly, dropping behind and stroking over the cleft of his ass. "I'm gonna be the first one to fuck your pretty little hole, aren't I? No one else has ever touched you like this before, have they?"
"No, Dean," Cas answers, eyes closed and pushing his ass down, trying to get to Dean's fingers. "Just you, Dean."
Dean's growl sounds almost feral. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good. Gonna fuck you nice and hard, have you feeling me for the rest of week. You want that, don't you? Want to think about me fucking that tight hole of yours whenever you sit down?"
"Yes, Dean, please, please, Dean. Fuck me."
"Yeah," Dean mumbles, voice slurred with want, bringing his fingers back up and putting them into his mouth, sucking obscenely and making Cas' dick twitch, hard, against his stomach. He pulls off them with a pop, trails them back down, circling one at Cas' hole teasingly. "Yeah, ok angel. Just gotta get you ready for me first."
He pushes in then, and Castiel inhales sharply. Dean only goes up to the knuckle, moving it in slowly. It feel – weird, mostly. It doesn't hurt exactly, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Doesn't stop him from grinding down onto it slightly, enjoying the shot of pleasure and pain that shoots through him when does, because Dean's finger is in his ass and holy fucking hell he might come from that anticipatory thought alone.
"More, please," he asks, and Dean breathes out a laugh.
"You sure you can handle that, sweetheart?"
Cas nods. "Yes," he says, and then adds on, "please."
Dean's head falls against Cas' shoulder and he snuffs laughter into the skin there. Still, he pushes the first finger in to the hilt, going slow enough that Cas could tell him to stop if he wanted to. Except he doesn't want to, because the drag of Dean's fingers inside of him, pushing in and then out, is making him harder than he thinks he's ever been before in his life.
This goes on and on, the slow, sweet drag of Dean's finger, the eventual adding of a second. Cas' breath hitches with each push and pull, moans erupting from his chest because shit, he had no idea it could feel this good. He'd only ever done anything with Dean – always too busy before, too conscientious – and this is further than they've ever gotten. Before was hand jobs and blowjobs and frenzied rutting, but this is kissing while Cas wraps his legs around Dean's waist, Dean's fingers inside of him and holy shit this is going somewhere that makes anticipation buzz through Cas' skin and makes him grind down onto Dean's fingers, focusing on the pleasure that edges the pain, needing more right fucking now.
"You can – ah – put another in, Dean. I'm not going to break."
Dean's breath stutters out of him. "God, baby, so perfect. Knew you'd be like this, all needing and slutty. I want you so bad, Cas, you have no idea."
"I know," Cas breathes, hands fisted in Dean's hair, mouthing the words against Dean's lips. "I want you, too. Please, Dean, I need you soon."
Dean just moans loudly and starts scissoring, almost fucking brutal in his ministrations. Cas takes it all and begs for more, moans happily when Dean slips in a third finger, chokes out of breath when Dean crooks them and hits his prostate.
"There, baby?" Dean asks, voice mumbled and fingers keeping up a brutal pace.
"Yes, Dean, right there, oh God please don't stop."
"You're so wet for me, babe," Dean slurs, one hand starting to jack Cas off while the other pushes in and out of him. "You want this so much, don't you? Fuck, I could come just watching you like this, you know. Just watching the way your eyes close and mouth looks so fucking wrecked. I could come right here on the spot with my fingers up your ass and kissing you 'til I can't breathe no more."
Soft sounds are falling out of Cas' mouth, reedy little ahs and hitches of breath. He listens to Dean talk and feels need coursing through his body, and it's not longer before his head is against Dean's shoulder and he's so goddamn ready he needs Dean fucking him yesterday.
"Now, Dean," he asks. "I want you to fuck me now, please, I'm ready."
Dean pushes in a few more times, crooking his fingers and swallowing Cas' breath, and then he pulls all three out at once, scissoring harshly on their way out. He quickly pulls Cas forwards again after, lining the head of his cock up to Cas' hole, nudging it and making Cas clutch even harder at Dean's skin, rake marks into it that won't fade for weeks.
Dean pulls away only to reach to his left, to pick up a little bottle of lube that he carries around with him – because he's a fucking slut, but apparently so is Cas, so he can't really complain, especially not right now – and a condom. He slides the condom on, applies the lube over his cock and to Cas' hole, and when everything's as it should be he gets back to Cas' mouth.
"Tell me if it hurts," Dean says, kissing Cas in between syllables. "Tell me if it hurts too much and I'll stop, ok?"
Cas nods frantically. "Yes, Dean. Just fuck me."
"Jesus, darlin', you're gonna be the death of me, I swear to God."
He punctuates his sentence by pushing in, inch by inch, slow and almost frustrating. Cas feels himself stretch around it, accommodating and wanting, hurting but still needing. Dean stops about halfway in, breathes deep and laboured, Cas doing the same. He mouths at Cas' neck and Cas' stretches to allow him more skin to bite and suck at, knowing he'll have hickeys and loving it anyway. He stays there for what seems like a long period of time, and eventually Cas feels himself clenching less, feeling less uncomfortable, too, and he starts to grind down onto Dean's dick softly.
"More, please."
Dean chuckles. "So damn bossy, Cas." He goes in further anyway.
He buries himself into the hilt, balls slapping against Cas' skin, hips flush against Cas' thighs. His hands clutch convulsively at Cas, one at his waist and the other holding up one of his thighs. Cas' hands are still buried in Dean's hair, angling him for kisses when he needs them, keeping him there so they can breathe into each other's mouth when sensation overwhelms him.
"This is – this is – oh God –"
"Am I hurting you?" Dean's tone is laced with concern, and Castiel would focus more on how fucking weird that is, if it weren't for how fucking good he feels right now.
"No, it's – it's slightly uncomfortable but – fuck, Dean if you don't start moving I think I may kill you."
Dean begins to laugh, but it cuts off when Cas pushes down. "Man, you're pushy."
Cas whines throatily. "Just move, Dean."
"Yeah, yeah, ok," Dean mumbles, starting to thrust in and out shallowly.
Cas moans at the feel of it, more vocal in this instance than ever before, and he meets Dean's pushes in with a roll of his hips against it. He wasn't lying when he said that it didn't hurt – sure, it's not the most comfortable thing he's ever done – and he wants Dean to push in harder, to hear the smack of skin against skin, the snap of Dean's hips against Cas' thighs. He wants it delicious and filthy and he says about as much aloud to Dean.
Dean's answer is to give him what he wants. He pulls out almost entirely and then slams back in, the snap of hips and skin resonating deep into Cas' bones and bringing him closer to the edge. Dean fills him up so big, and he always knew Dean was packing – had already had the evidence in his hands and mouth – but with him inside of Castiel, he just feels infinitely bigger, and fucking better as well. Dean continues to move in and out, fast and hard, taking Cas' loud groans as all the acquiescence he needs that Cas wants this. Because he does, oh so fucking much, and he's losing his virginity and it's going to be over embarrassingly quickly, but who the hell cares, anyway, because he's eighteen years old and he's giving it up to Dean freaking Winchester, for Christ's sake.
"Dean," he murmurs, mouth sloppy where Dean licks into it, thrusting hard still. "Dean, touch me, I'm so close, fuck."
Dean hums his agreement. "Hm, me too baby," he slurs, taking the hand he's got on Cas' waist and moving it round to Cas' dick, jacking him off with sure strokes that match the rhythmic snap of his hips. "God, you're so perfect, your ass is so tight I wanna fuck you for hours, sweetheart, get you writhing and begging. Wanna spread you out and leave hickeys all over your gorgeous body, wanna bend you right in half and play with that pretty little hole of yours. You'd let me, right baby? You want this as much as I do?"
"Shit," Cas almost yells, feeling on the edge, the precipice, ready to tumble over. "Yes, Dean, fuck, I want that so bad. Next time, God, next time."
Dean drives in once more, burying himself fully, thumb brushing over the tip of Cas' cock, mouth forming a broken Cas, and that's when Cas comes. He spills over Dean's hand, some on his stomach, hot even against his feverish skin. He keeps his eyes open during it, wanting to see Dean come, too. Which he does, about ten seconds later, fucking in frenetically and without any finesse, Cas clenching around his dick with as much control as he can considering he's still blessed out from his own orgasm. He keeps his eyes open as well, just watching each other until they can't anymore, until Dean's eyes slam shut and he pushes forward to tongue fuck Castiel once again.
Cas lets him, of course, arms around Dean's neck, stroking lazily at the short hairs at the back of it, feeling hot skin against hot skin, Dean still inside of him, soft now but not wanting him out just yet. Dean pulls away after a minute or two, leaning their foreheads together and panting into each other's mouths.
"You ok?" he asks after a little while, and Cas can't help but breathe out a small laugh.
"I'm fucking fantastic," he answers, and is rewarded for his honesty with a small smile from Dean.
Dean pulls out after that, and Cas winces. Dean chuckles, murmurs sorry, it'll be like that for a while, and takes the condom off his dick to throw into the trash can, picks up both of their clothes, pulling on his own boxers and then setting the rest on the desk beside Cas. He picks up a piece of cloth from behind Cas and wipes him down, throwing it in the trash after, too, and then picking up Cas' boxers and slipping them back on for him.
He steps back and allows them both to get redressed, Cas trying to smooth out his hair and Dean ruining it by fluffing his hands through it whenever it seems to regain any kind of normalcy. Cas grumbles when he does this, and Dean just replies, "Dude, it'd be weirder if you didn't have sex hair, trust me." Cas flushes beneath a smile and Dean pushes him up against the wall and starts kissing him.
It's a lazy kind of kiss: tongue and lips, unhurried and messy, no end in sight, just the feel of Dean's skin underneath his palms, of Dean's hands cupping his jaw. They keep it going for far longer than they should, and Castiel thinks that this is them in the afterglow. Eventually, Dean pulls away only with his mouth, keeping his body in place so it still crowds Cas against the wall.
Cas thinks of something. "Oh, I need to talk to you about our project."
Dean chuckles and presses another kiss to the corner of Cas' lips. "Really, Cas?" he asks, slight incredulity in his tone. "You wanna talk about that now?"
"All things considered, we are at school currently. Therefore it's actually more appropriate for us to discuss our upcoming school work instead of, I don't know, fuck on a teacher's desk."
Dean laughs again. "You got me there, I guess," he mumbles, nose pressing along Cas' cheek, almost reverent. "Go on then, shoot."
"Well, we still have rather a lot to do. And whilst spending the day at your place with your brother was fun, it was not particularly conducive to a good work ethic. I'm pretty sure we spent more time talking than actually working, so I was thinking we should go to the library next time, get some real work done. This weekend, perhaps?"
Dean goes stiller and stiller as Cas speaks, and by the end of it he's pulled back entirely, leaving Cas slouched against the wall alone. He stands a few feet away, rubs a hand over the back of his neck and looks down at his feet.
"Sammy's got football practise on Saturday, I can't."
Castiel is nonplussed, not understanding what has Dean acting this way. "That's fine, we can do Sunday if that's better for –"
"I can't do Sunday either," he interrupts. "Sam's got his tutor and there's stuff I need to sort out at – at the bank."
"Oh," Castiel breathes, frowning. "Couldn't – couldn't your dad do that stuff? Or your mom?"
Dean's head snaps up. "No," he grits out, and Castiel frowns even further. "I have to do it."
"I don't see why, Dean. Sam is your brother, not your child, surely your one of your parents should be doing these kinds of things instead of you."
A muscle in Dean's jaw twitches and he shifts from foot to foot, a hard set to his shoulders. "I said no, Cas. It's my job. Drop it."
"No," Castiel pushes, feeling brash and rude, not understanding why Dean is pushing him away, why Dean is obviously hiding something. "How can it be your job? You're not the parent. Shit, you're barely a functioning teenager. How are you being put in care of a fourteen year old when you can't even show up to school on time and finish your work? How the fuck does that make sense, Dean?"
"What the fuck do you know, Cas?" Dean erupts, red in the face, rounding in on Cas with his hands in fists. "You're just a little slut, a dirty little whore who gave it up in a school classroom to someone you don't even like. You're boring, Castiel. You're a pretty little nerd who was barely worth my time, and now I've got what I wanted and I'm done with you. I've got nerdy little Castiel Novak's virginity and you ain't getting it back, sweetheart, so you can stay the fuck away from me for good. That's all you're worth, anyway, what more could I want from you?"
Castiel looks at Dean, the anger in his eyes, the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows convulsively. He glances over to the desk, thinks of not five fucking minutes before, when Dean had kissed him, spoke of next time, made sure it didn't hurt. He feels his jaw clench as he realises that was an act, all a fucking act and now that it's over Dean's back to being the asshole Cas somehow momentarily forgot he is.
"I –" Cas starts, soft and slow. He's not sure whether he's going to shout or yell or curl up on himself, but before he's got the chance to decide Dean is unlocking the door, storming out without even glancing back once. Once he's gone, Castiel is left alone, slumped against the wall, shame crawling up his spine, face burning with anger and hate and so much fucking shame he has no idea how he's going to walk back into those halls.
Today, he lost his virginity. He lost it to an asshole who was using him the whole time, and it wouldn't even be that bad if Cas hadn't somehow begun to think that there was more between them. Dean gave him hope that maybe there could be, but now he realises it was an act. Who knows, maybe Sam's in on it, too. Maybe they make a team, one where they both make the person in question feel special, enough so that said person will give it up at the next available opportunity.
He hates himself for falling for it.
He also hates himself for how he was falling in love with the person Dean was pretending to be. Except he's not sure how to undo it, either.
-
Cas is curled up in bed, sheets tucked under his chin and face buried into the pillow. He's been here since he got home, hasn't spoken to anyone the whole time. Michael had come in to ask if he wanted dinner, Luke to ask about dessert. Gabriel had called his cell phone but he let the phone ring through to voicemail. In the car Anna had tried to talk to him, but he'd just turned the radio up loud enough to discourage any kind of conversation, and she got the hint quickly enough.
Now, he's in bed. He feels stupid and angry and above all numb, and he hates that he's become the high school cliché of crying over a boy who doesn't want him back. He hates that he fell for Dean's sweethearts, and his relationship with his little brother, and he hates, hates, hates that he gave it up so willingly, wanted Dean so bad, and Dean only wanted Cas as quick and easy as he could fuck him.
The door creaks open and Anna pops her head around.
"Hey, Cas," she whispers, and gets no reply. She walks into the room regardless, dressed in pyjamas so Cas assumes it's night time. She comes over to his bed, stands beside it, and hesitates a second before she crawls in next him and snuggles up against his back. Her voice is muffled by the cloth of Cas' t-shirt when she speaks next. "I don't know exactly what happened today, but I know it must involve Dean and it must be pretty bad.
Cas doesn't say anything and she breathes deep and slow, and Cas' eyes fall closed. Anna is his sister and he loves her and he wants to tell her, but –
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, love. But I'm going to stay here just in case you do."
He drops a hand to hers to curl their fingers together. "Thank you," is all he can find it in himself to whisper, and he falls asleep to the feel of his sister being there for him.
