Dean, surprisingly, was nervous. The warm air of summer graced over his face as he walked side by side with Castiel. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his lips were uncharacteristically dry with anticipation. He never got like this. Whenever he was trying to swoon or win over a girl he acted cool and charming. Right now, with Cas, Dean felt like he was floundering.

They were making their way down the street to a restaurant Dean had made reservations at. It was a cute Italian place Sam had suggested because it served the best pasta and pizza - pretty much all Dean's favourites. Though now all Dean could think was the many ways this date could go disastrously wrong. He wasn't exactly a neat eater. There could be spaghetti sauce and dangly pasta flying everywhere and that certainly wouldn't make a good impression.

He smoothed a hand over the back of his neck, taking in a deep breath followed by a long, drawn-out exhale to calm himself. Straight away he knew he'd made too much noise. The way the air left his lips made him seem too nervous. Too agitated. Cas would know he was worried.

"Are you okay?" The dark haired man asked right on queue, as if he could read Dean's mind, breaking the awkward silence that had managed to build since they left the university dorms.

Dean turned to look at him, sticking his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual, "Yeh. I'm cool. I'm chill. You?"

Well that most definitely was not chill! Mental face palm.

Cas combed his dark hair behind his ears, "I'm fine, thankyou."

Dean nodded like a dashboard bobble head. This was just getting painful now. He prayed the meal wouldn't continue like this. Sighing to himself he glanced across at Cas.

It was the first time Dean had seen him without his trench coat. He was wearing a crisp, white shirt with a navy bomber jacket and dark, denim jeans with brown suede shoes. In all honesty he looked amazing. Completely different from what Dean had expected. And he was weirdly calm in comparison. At least he appeared that way. His face was relaxed and clean shaven. Dean even picked up the scent of expensive cologne. A smell he'd never come across, but now all he wanted to do was press his nose against Castiel's neck and inhale that smell and kiss around his Adam's apple.

Cas flicked his gaze in Dean's direction and their eyes met. They smiled at each other. Cas's eyes were so gentle. Little creases in the corners formed when his lips curved. Dean felt a warm flutter in his stomach.

"So, um, what do we talk about on a date?" Cas asked quietly.

Dean cocked his eyebrow, "Haven't you ever been on a date before?"

Cas flushed red. Perhaps he was nervous after all.

"Sort of. I don't know. I suppose. Ugh.. I haven't really done this.. I don't really date," Cas mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.

This was a win. Dean now had the upper hand. Suddenly he felt more at ease. He was pretry much a master on the dating front. The amount of typical, long lashed women he'd wined and dined over the years gave him some knowledge on how these things played out. Surely this date with Cas would be no different. He just had to follow his usual, flirtatious setup and he'd be fine.

Smirking he patted his palms on his jeans, "So I'm your first?"

Cas nudged him with his elbow, "Shut up!"

Dean chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulder and squeezed him close. Cas giggled as he settled his head down into the crook of Dean's neck. Then Dean bowed his face and whiffed the smell of Cas's hair, sweet and freshly showered mixed with the scent of his aftershave. When they parted away the smell lingered on Dean's body.

"Well," he began, a permanent smile plastered on his face as they strolled down the street, "Normally on a date we ask about one another's upbringing, our jobs, interests, things like that."

Cas nodded, "Oh, right, yeah of course."

"And then after our meal I take you home and fuck you senseless," Dean winked.

Cas's breathing stopped short and his body instantly went rigid and alert. Dean could practically see the tightness forming in his jeans as he processed the admission. He blinked and they met eyes again, studying each other intensely.

"I'm kidding! We'll just see how this goes. No pressure remember," Dean smiled eventually, yet however hard he tried to play it off, they both knew he hadn't been kidding.


He'd tried to keep his cool. He'd played it casual from the get go. But now Castiel's already overactive mind was in overdrive. His heart was practically vibrating in his rib cage.

He couldn't even look at Dean anymore because he was sure that if the charming Mr Winchester eye-fucked him anymore he'd melt into a pool right there on the pavement and beg to be screwed.

When Dean reached over to pat Cas's arm reassuringly Cas felt his hands tremble. The nerves in his skin bursted with activity. His thoughts catapulted around his brain, pin-balling against his skull and making his temple ache.

It was him and Dean. What was there to be anxious about? They'd had sex, surely they could sit across from one another at a dinner table and engage in polite conversation without it turning weird. He'd wanted this after all; the softness and sweetness that came before the sex, yet right at this moment his stomach was cramping at the delicious thought of Dean behind him, fucking him full. It was like being around Dean for too long simply reminded him of all their previous rendezvous. It was torture.

Cas was so caught up in his head he didn't even realise when Dean led him through the door of a red bricked building. He blinked in a daze as his eyes adjusted to the soft candlelight and cosy atmosphere. There were fake, green vines twisting over the exposed stone walls and the floor was a solid oak to match the tables and chairs. An open kitchen ahead sent delicious smells in Castiel's direction. The place was bustling with activity and life. The chef calling orders and black dressed staff twirling from table to table with trays of drinks and pizzas. There were tones of people Cas recognised from University socials that Sam had dragged him too and even Dean could place a few familiar faces amongst the crowd. Instinctively Cas shifted back behind Dean, obscuring himself from view.

Dean swivelled round on his heels, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just hovering... I know it sounds weird. I'm not really a people person, that's all."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise it would be so busy," Dean shuffled his feet. They were standing by a wooden podium. Menus were displayed on some stands to their left and a sign said 'PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED'. Cas stepped forward in front of Dean and peered at the menu, trying to appear a bit more confident and less pathetic. He didn't want Dean to pity him and right now he was giving off such a weak vibe.

"Don't apologise. It's fine. This place is beautiful." Immediately he cringed at himself. Beautiful?. How soppy could he get? Regardless his date was grinning lopsidedly at him when he looked over his shoulder.

"Great. I'm glad you like it. Sam said you like pasta too so I thought.." Dean's voice drifted off. Cas had pulled back from the stands and regarded him. Half smiling. Half wide staring. He was pleasantly surprised that Dean had taken the time to ask Sam what kind of food he liked.

"I love pasta," Cas quietly said, watching him thoughtfully. Dean gulped and then coughed to clear his throat. He rubbed the end of his chin, scratching his stubble, probably hoping Castiel would look away but he held his curious gaze.

"Can I help you there?"

A waitress with blond hair tucked back in a ponytail bounced over to them. Her face was shiny and her cheeks rosy from pacing back and forth to the hot kitchen. She had black, wide framed glasses on and a small mouth that hardly moved when she talked.

Dean moved up to her, "Hi, I've got a table booked for Winchester."

The waitress flipped open a book from behind the podium and tapped her finger down the paper, "Oh, yes. Table for two."

"Yes. That's right. And, um, is there any chance you have any tables in a quieter area?" Dean inquired. Cas blushed immediately and sank back embarrassed.

She regarded the two of them with a glance, "Let me just check."

Once she had sped away Dean turned to Cas and winked. Cas's words became a mumble in his throat. His stomach swelled with giddiness. Any more cuteness from this guy he was sure he would explode.

The waitress returned swiftly with a smile, "Right this way."

She scooped up two, leather bound menus and skipped off. Dean marched after her and Cas scurried to catch up. Dean's steps were very wide. Cas noted how his legs bowed with every stride, boots clomping on the floor, while he on the other hand had to pretty much jog to keep close.

The waitress guided them through the jungle of tables and customers, under an archway, to another area of the restaurant where the lighting was especially dim and booths lined the wall. A few other couples were dotted about talking in hushed tones.

To Cas's surprise the other patrons didn't seem to care that the two men were arriving together. It was pretty obvious they were on a date but no one even looked up.

The waitress eventually stopped at the far corner and gestured for the two to sit down. Dean nodded to Cas and he slid into the booth first, then Dean followed on the opposite side. There was mild mood music playing from a speaker on the wall above them. A red candle stuck in a wine bottle was flickering in the centre of the table and wax trickled down the sides.

"Here are your menus gentlemen, I'll be back in a few minutes to get your drinks," she handed over the menus and whisked away, adjusting her apron.

Cas smoothed down the fabric of his shirt, "This is nice. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," Dean opened the menu. The way he spoke, with such sincerity, warmed Cas's heart. He admired Dean for a few minutes, observing the way he scanned the choices on the menu, long lashes batting softly. He was wearing a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up that hugged his biceps perfectly and a white v neck tshirt underneath. The black jeans he had on were fitted against his legs and Cas had sneaked a few glances at his toned ass while they'd walked here. He looked casual yet well presented at the same time.

Over the past few weeks Cas had found himself, without meaning to, watching Dean when he wasn't aware. He sometimes even tried to count the freckles on his face but then Dean would shift or look up and Cas would have to start all over again. Mostly he liked being near Dean. Close enough to just look at him. Really look. Dean had a face that was the perfect balance of sharp and soft.

He tipped the menu forward suddenly so Cas could see his pink lips while he spoke, "What are you thinking of having?"

Cas darted his eyes down the list of dishes quickly, "Carbonara sounds nice."

Dean put his elbows on the table, his forearms slightly red from all the sun, and flicked to the next page in the menu, "It does. There's pizza on the next page if you fancy that. Can't go wrong with pizza."

Cas laughed, "Pizza would hit the spot."

"I'll always hit your spot," Dean smirked under his breath. Cas looked at him surprised and Dean licked his lips as if to add more punch to his words. The candlelight made his bottom lip glimmer with wetness.

Cas should have just laughed it off. But instead his throat clenched and his cock started heating up in his lap. How was it possible for Dean to turn him on with just a snarky comment?

Dean chuckled and returned to reading the menu and that seemed to handle the situation. Cas was secretly thankful. He wasn't sure what he would have said had Dean expected a seductive reply. His heart rate was soaring.

"Do you like red wine?" asked Dean after a moment.

Cas licked his lips anxiously, "Um, y-yes.. Sometimes. Do you?"

"I drink anything," Dean replied with a shrug, "We could order a bottle of something if you like? Pick a wine."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Yeh, 'course."

They smiled at each other. Once again Cas's stomach burst into a flutter of emotion. He was still grinning to himself when the waitress came skipping over and asked what they wanted to drink.

Dean cocked his head in Castiel's direction, indicating for him to make the choice, so Cas timidly requested a bottle of Merlot which the waitress scribbled down.

"Could we perhaps order our food now too? You seem quite busy out front, it would save some time," Dean said. The waitress nodded, cheeks flushing red when Dean flashed her a grateful smile.

Cas frowned. Of course she would find him attractive. Heck, he was practically glowing in the candlelight like a Greek god. Even when he gestured for Cas to order first the waitress never lifted her gaze from Dean's face.

"Could I please have the Carbonara?" Cas asked, smiling politely and trying to keep his cool. The waitress noted it down and blinked at Dean.

"A margarita pizza please," said Dean.

"Perfect, I'll return with your wine in just a moment," the waitress said, watching Dean as she backed away, like he was a golden bar, all bright and shiny. Cas wanted to stab her with his fork. He was pleased when she slinked off with the menus and even more pleased when Dean linked their feet together under the table comfortingly.

"I'm glad we're doing this," he said.

"Me too. I didn't think you'd agree," Cas rubbed his ankle against Dean's, feeling the pressure against his skin, making the hairs on his legs static.

"I almost didn't. I was worried. About dating a guy. About my Dad's reaction. But Sam talked some sense into me. Screw what everyone else says. I'm going after what I want now," Dean explained, lifting his boot and lightly grazing up Cas's shin, "And I want you."

Cas exhaled through his nose, "Really? Because I want you too."

The corners of Dean's mouth tugged up. He reached over and laced his fingers into Cas's. Their hands explored; Cas tracing the lines on Dean's knuckles with the tips of his fingers, Dean circling Cas's warm palms gently with his nails. They found a comfortable position to grasp, both their wrists resting down and their interlocked hands raised, just as the waitress returned with the bottle of wine and two glasses. Cas couldn't hold back the beaming, smug smile on his lips as she poured out the dark, purpley red liquid.

When she disappeared again Cas picked up the glass with his other hand then took a long gulp. The taste swirled down his throat and a heavenly buzz sang in his head. His eyelids fluttered happily and he pushed his bottom lip through his teeth. Dean's eyes sparkled at this as he scooped up his own wine with his free hand and sipped seductively. When he pulled the glass away his lips were plump and gleaming red with wine. Cas wanted to taste him immediately. The richness of his tongue. The trickle of wine inside his cheeks. He had to swallow another mouthful to keep himself from lingering on the dirty thought of Dean's mouth.

Before long he was two glasses down, halfway through his carbonara and steaming with newfound confidence. Like with each drink he was shedding the layers of nervousness.

"So what is your job then? The mysterious work that calls you here, there and everywhere?" Cas giggled, topping up his glass with more wine (which probably wasn't the best idea).

Dean had his ankle grinding against Castiel's as they ate, "I fix cars and er, hunt."

"Hunt?" Cas twirled his fork in his pasta and popped some into his mouth. The image of Dean dressed in full hunting gear with a rifle and such interested him.

"Yeah. Family business," Dean explained. Some sauce squeezed out of his pizza down his fingers and he suckled on the tomatoey taste. Cas watched him lustfully.

"See something you like?" Dean laughed, swiping his tongue around his red lips. His foot brushed up Cas's calf, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make Cas almost groan out loud with delight. His face flushed and his mouth parted.

Then all at once the feel of Dean on his leg vanished. Cas eyed him curiously, watching him suddenly shuffle on the spot. There was the sound of fabric shifting, moving, jean against leather, then a boot clomping down gently on the wood.

Cas was baffled for only a second as almost immediately his attention was directed to the sensation of Dean's bare foot gliding up past his knee, round his thigh. He could feel the warmth of Dean's toes against his trousers, the contact sending fiery hot blood straight to his cock. Dean must have sensed the tension. His naked foot slid along Cas's inner thigh towards the seam in his trousers where a growing bulge was emerging.

Dean's eyes raked over Cas, his brow turned down with seriousness. There was a level of darkness in his stare that Cas was almost intimidated by, almost fearful, but the edge of Dean's mouth curved just slightly enough that Cas knew he was devilishly content. This was the kind of torture Dean got off on. His foot grazed against the zipper of Cas's jeans and his jade eyes got heavier. Softly he curved his toes against the hardened member packed tightly inside. Cas had to clench his teeth to conceal a strangled, raspy groan. A small whimper still managed to creep through. It was enough to make the man sitting opposite him shudder. Dean really got off on this.

Castiel's heart was positively throbbing in his chest as Dean continued to massage his foot against his dick. He could already feel a bead of pre-cum slipping out of his slit and dampening his underwear. If Dean kept this up he was going to be splattering the inside of his black boxers white in seconds.

"Dean.." He managed to breath.

"This is just the start Cas," Dean leaned in. Cas moved to the edge of his seat too, eager to be closer, drawn in like oxygen. Dean's foot pressed harder against his groin.

"Dean, I-"

"Mr Novak?"

Cas whipped his head up and stared at the tall, suited gentleman standing by his table. He snapped both his hands into his lap embarassed. The colour drained from his cheeks.

"Professor Balthazar.. I didn't expect to see you here," Cas chocked.

The professor chuckled, "Evidently." Cas felt faint. He flicked a look at Dean. He was sitting back now, tapping his fingers on his glass, looking severely handsome as always. His foot was still sneakily pressed up against Cas's erection, which surprisingly hadn't gone down.

"I must say Mr Novak you're looking well. Really well," Professor Balthazar rested his arm on the top of the booth, just behind Cas's head. The crosshatch fabric of his suit jacket brushed against Cas's hair. Dean notably tensed.

"Thankyou, sir," Cas mumbled.

"And I'm assuming this the boy you were telling me about?" The professor grinned. Dean pressed his toes firmly against Cas's cock at the mention of his name. Cas's eyes widened. He prayed that his teacher wouldn't notice the sexual act occurring under the table.

"Dean Winchester," Dean nodded in the professors direction. Then he took a drink from his glass. He was smiling but his eyes were fierce and blazing.

The professor bared his teeth in a daring grin and turned his face to Castiel, trapping him in his icy stare, "I didn't mean to interrupt your little.. 'Date' Mr Novak, I just wanted to ask if you would be willing to come speak to me sometime soon."

Cas tried not to squirm in his seat as Dean wickedly kneaded his foot against his swollen length, "Oh, I-"

"Nothing serious," Professor Balthazar interjected, "A little chat. Just us two. There's a lot I'd like to discuss." He brought his hand up to his white shirt and slowly loosened his tie, popping the button of his collar and exposing his neck further. There was no doubt that the professor was flirting and for some reason Dean was getting more and more sexually driven with this audience. Cas found it all so strangely thrilling.

"Um, sure, we could-" he bit his lip.

Under the table Dean was rhythmically dragging his foot up and down Cas's groin, coaxing him closer to a shivery orgasm. In his pants Cas was positively soaked from dribbling precum. He was shaking with the sheer excitement and danger of the whole situation.

"We could?" Professor Balthazar queried, leaning closer, the smell of his expensive cologne forced into Castiel's face.

He gulped back a groan, "We could meet after class next week if that suits you."

Every sense seemed to pulsate in Cas's ears, like pounding water from a waterfall, crashing through his body. He dug his nails into the wooden to try and fight the urges to scream. There was an internal magnet in his core, drawing in all the tingly pleasure, stacking it up, preparing for the explosion that would lead to an avalanche of ecstasy. It would floor him. Bury him. Consume him. He was sure of it. And with each push of Dean's foot the tension maximised in his body. He could practically taste the orgasm.

His head was so fuzzy he barely heard his professor, "Perfect. See you then Mr Novak. I look forward to it. Nice to meet you Dean."

Dean exaggeratedly waved. His foot was going crazy against Cas's red hot dick. Professor Balthazar smirked. His fingers suddenly roamed down over Castiel's shoulders suggestively and he squeezed before turning on the heels of his Italian leather shoes and sauntering away.

When his teacher was a safe distance away Cas collapsed forward onto the table, surrendering at last, allowing the sensation to take hold. Immediately it was like tumbling into a deep ravine, flipping and spiralling through the exhilaration. A rush so hot, so quick. His body burned. Like millions of ants were biting up his skin. Streams of cum shot into his boxers and lap. He couldn't even scream. Couldn't even make a sound. Instead he let the background music fill the void where pleasured cries would have been. The eventual comedown brought shivers to his spine.

"DEAN," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"I make you feel that good. I do that. Not him," said Dean, his foot finally slipping away from Cas's body.

"I would never.. He's my teacher."

Dean gritted his teeth, "Exactly. The way he was touching you Cas.. It was driving me crazy."

"I want you, Dean. No one else," said Cas.

Dean smiled, "Good. I was just making sure you were aware. It's me and only me from here on out though. I don't share."

"Me either."

"Oh, you have nothing to worry about," Dean replied. He drank his glass till it was empty and rose from his seat, moving quickly. All at once he was in front of Cas, cupping his face, pulling his trembling body close. He leaned in so that when he spoke his wine flavoured breath brushed Cas's lips.

"I've only got eyes for you," he whispered and Cas believed him. They stared at each other, knowing that something deeper was going to spiral from this. Something freeing and new and uncontrollable. With realisation Dean scooped Cas from the booth into an embrace and kissed him, his desperate touches and tender lips radiating promise and purpose.

To be continued...