Things start falling apart the day Dean learns he's being shipped out to Iraq.

He takes the evening out and hitches all the way to Castiel's apartment in a light drizzle. When he gets there he sees Castiel on the rickety balcony.

He isn't alone.

There's a guy with him. Dean freezes beneath a tree in the scrubby front yard. He watches the stranger hop down the stairs and climb up into a pick-up across the street.

Ten seconds later he's banging on the door of Cas's place like the legions of hell.

"Who the fuck was he?" he growls the second Castiel opens the door.

"Dean" his eyes are wide, smudgy makeup on the lids. He's wearing a short, black dress and heels.

He stinks of sex.

Dean isn't even thinking as he pushes Castiel backwards, the smaller man staggers on his high shoes. Dean shoves again and then grabs Castiel by the arms, forcing him back until his legs hit the bed. The scent of sex intensifies as the sheets are disturbed, Castiel lies, wide eyed and stunned, only beginning to struggle when Dean pushes down on top of him, spreading his legs.

"Dean...what the fuck are you..." He kicks out, losing a shoe, scratching his blunt nails across Dean's shoulder. "Get...off..." Dean jerks him brutally, shaking him and dumping him back on the bed.

"Shut. Up. Cas." He's just holding him down, after a few seconds Castiel stops struggling and just looks up at him. Dean glowers back, face thunderous. "you sleeping around on me? Acting like a fucking whore, Jesus."

Castiel's lashes dust against his lower lids as his eyes flutter closed.

"That's exactly what I am." He opens his eyes, looking stricken. "Dean, I'm so sorry..."

"You're..." his chest feels tight. "You sonofa-" he's hit him before he knows it, open palm snapping Cas's head back against the mattress. He winces, gasping out a shocked breath. "That's why you were in the alley? Looking for your next meal ticket..." Castiel doesn't look at him. "Your next high? What?"

He's hard, still pinning Castiel to the bed. He fumbles between them, pulling at his zipper, hitching up the skirt of Castiel's dress.

"Please...don't..." his voice is strained, breaking. "Dean...don't do this."

The first thrust burns like a mother, ripping everything so suddenly that for a second he can't feel. Dean sobs out a moan, straining forward, settling on a punishing pace that drags Castiel to the edge of hell and back. He can't think, or move, the pain is so intense. Ironically, horribly, it would be worse if he hadn't already had someone inside of him.

Above him Dean is panting, eyes squeezed shut, jaw locked. He's hurting, losing the first man he's slept with, the first person he's loved, to a lie. Castiel is a whore, not just a slut with some issues, but an honest to God fuck-toy for hire. Everything he's given Dean can be bought, could have been bought and has been, by strangers.

Dean barely registers the hand on his face, at least for a few seconds. It strokes his skin gently, softly.

"Dean?" the voice is tight with pain, but not angry. "Dean? Baby, it's ok...it's ok..." Castiel's hand meshes into Dean's hair, gently running his blunt nails over his scalp. It's a warm, animal feeling, a pack action. Dean's thrusting grinds to a halt, leaving him buried in aching, resistant muscle. He collapses, throat burning and eyes watering with furious, shamed tears.

Castiel winces, pressing his face into Dean's hair and letting out a long stuttering breath.

After a while Dean pulls out, lying beside Castiel and staring up at the ceiling.

"Why do you do it?" he asks, quietly.

"I needed the money." Castiel frowns, a rough breath escaping him. "well...five years ago I needed the money...It's just all I can do, my other job doesn't pay much and I...I'm good at it."

"You are that." Dean says, bitterly.

"Hey" his voice is soft. "when I said I loved you, I meant it. And what you said to Jimmy... no one's..claimed me, like that before."

"So, you turn a trick to celebrate?"

"So...I panicked." Castiel turns to him. "because I'm not worth that much...least I don't think so...I guess I was right."

"Cas..." rapidly forming bruises carve bracelets around his wrists. Dean thumbs one, then leans to lick it, pressing his lips to the flesh.

"I know." Castiel pets his hair. "I'll heal...and I won't do that again, never." He curls up. "I'm so sorry." Dean sits up, smoothing Castiel's spine.

"Cas...I fucking...raped...you." His voice catches on the word. "you should...I don't know, get mad, kick me out, call the cops...something."

"I love you" Castiel moves to rest against Dean's side. "and I know you won't do it again."

Dean doesn't know what to say to that, so he goes with the only thing he knows for sure.

"I love you too Cas." He holds him tight, trying to blot out the memory of what he's done. "and I'm going to spend...the next thirty, or however many years, trying to make this up to you."

Internally he adds or however long I've got.