Chapter Nine: Twenty One
When Dean turned twenty one he and Castiel went to visit Bobby and Sam for the first time in almost two years. Dean was thrilled to see his younger brother again, and he marvelled at how tall he had grown, almost towering over Dean, who was not that short himself. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Castiel was quite clearly shutting him out again. He had thought that Castiel showing him his house in Maine had meant a maturing of their relationship, but clearly he had been wrong.
He tried to talk to Castiel about his increasing distance from Dean, but Castiel merely told him to leave it alone. Dean, forever stubborn, pursued the subject until Castiel erupted one night and screamed at him to let it alone. Since then, about two months before, they had not made love and Dean felt something inside of himself slowly dying.
He did not let Sam and Bobby see this, though, because it was not their burden to bear. He was Castiel's lover, and it was his responsibility to unlock Castiel's heart. Castiel had been an enigma to him for the past six years, and when he thought about it, he only really knew that Castiel's family had died tragically. He did not know how or why they had died, and he knew little to nothing about Castiel's career as a hunter, aside from his hunting in New Orleans, and that was limited to the deceased bokor Francois and Castiel's guilt over Delphine.
Castiel screamed in his sleep almost every night, and when Dean tried to comfort him he pushed him away, large blue eyes haunted and dark. Dean would sometimes watch Castiel, but he could not figure out what tormented Castiel in his dreams.
If anyone could see the distance that had opened up between he and Castiel, then they made no comment about it. Bobby invited quite a few of the hunters to his house, including the Harvelles, and Jo, Dean and Sam talked, while Castiel sat outside on the porch with some of the other hunters. Dean smiled and laughed as everyone sang Happy Birthday to him and he blew out the twenty one candles of the chocolate cake that Bobby had of course baked.
When most of the hunters had left, telling Bobby that they would keep in touch and what they were hunting at the moment, Sam pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to Dean.
"I got in, Dean," he breathed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. "I got accepted to Stanford's pre-law programme."
Dean stared at the letter in disbelieve for a moment, before he pulled Sam tightly against him and smiled into his little brother's neck.
"I'm so proud of you, you clever bastard," he laughed.
Sam laughed in return, his long arms encircling his brother in a snug embrace, "I'm so happy, Dean."
Dean pulled back and cupped his brother's face affectionately, "I want you to promise me something."
Sam nodded, resting his hands over Dean's.
"You have to stay out of the life, do you understand me?" Dean said searchingly, almost desperately. "If you can get out, you stay out. Promise me."
"I promise, Dean," Sam whispered. "I promise."
"Good," Dean said, drawing Sam against him again and closing his eyes, willing his little brother to keep his promise.
Castiel lay on his back on the ground, the sounds of the forest filling his ears as he gazed at the starless sky above the canopy. He could hear the sounds of the tree barks and leaves crackling as they burnt around him, but he did not look away from the sky.
The touch came as it always did, cold and slow over his thighs and stomach. He tried to curl in on himself, but strong hands held him down against the earth. He felt tears running down the sides of his face and into the shells of his ears.
Then his vision was filled with that face whose unforgiving blue eyes bored into his own and rendered him immobile, as they always did. He wanted to be strong, he wanted to fight back, but he had never been able to.
"Castiel," came the quiet voice. "My beautiful child."
Castiel managed to turn his face away and bury it in the dirt, but then it was wrenched back to its previous position and his eyes smarted with tears of pain.
"Don't turn away," the voice held a note of warning anger. "You look at me when I take you."
He felt the cold fingers at his entrance and he cried out in pain as they forced their way inside of him. He gripped the earth so hard that blood mingled with rich earth under his nails, and his fingers throbbed.
"So tight, Castiel. Always so tight for me. Were you this tight for that boy? That precious boy you're trying to keep me from."
"Don't-don't talk about Dean! You don't get to talk about Dean! Ever!"
The laugh that his words caused made his skin feel as if it wanted to crawl away.
"How sweet, Castiel. You think you can stand up to me, especially when it comes to Dean. Well you can't, and you won't be able to stop me when I decide to fuck him and then kill him. Nice. And. Slow."
Castiel could no longer hold in the sobs which became screams as rigid flesh slammed into his sensitive passage, and buried itself deep inside of him.
"Please don't!" he screamed. "Please stop Lucifer! Please stop father! Please!"
"Always so tight for Daddy," Lucifer whispered into his ear. "My beautiful son Castiel. I'll never stop, Castiel. I'll never leave you again. Never."
He laid his hand on Castiel's scar, and it fit perfectly, "You knew I'd never really leave you."
"Please don't!" Castiel screamed as he sat up.
"Cas!" Dean cried, as he sat up too and turned to the older man.
Castiel's face were wet with tears and he wanted to turn away when Dean gently wiped them away with his thumbs, but Dean wouldn't let him. He stared into Dean's large green eyes for a long time before he leaned forward and captured his soft pink mouth. Dean moaned into the kiss, like a dying man who had just had his first sip of water in the desert.
Castiel lifted Dean's shirt over his head and revealed his gorgeous body, which glowed softly in the moonlight that spilled onto the bed through the window of Bobby's guest bedroom. He pulled Dean against him and drew a nipple into his mouth, making Dean's head loll back in pleasure.
"Castiel," he whispered. "I need you inside me. Please baby. It's been so long."
Castiel let the now hardened nipple go as he reached into his bag at the side of the bed and extracted the bottle of lubricant. He slicked his fingers up and slowly slid two of them into Dean's clenching heat. Dean moaned beautifully as he thrust back onto his lover's fingers, and Castiel committed the sounds to memory.
"I'm ready, Cas," he husked.
Castiel slicked himself up before Dean moved forward and slowly sank down on him, gripping his shoulders as he began to lift himself off Castiel's cock and then slide down again. He bit his lower lip as he moved, and Castiel watched his face attentively, letting the pleasure wash over him for now, and wipe away the images of his repulsive dream.
His hands slid down and he gently squeezed the supple flesh of Dean's buttocks as he thrust up into him. He buried his face in Dean's smooth chest and let himself just feel, because this would be the last time he would make love to this angel. This angel who had dared to hope would be his.
Dean arched beautifully as he came and dragged Castiel's orgasm from him. For a moment they stayed like that, panting softly in the night, and Castiel wanted to stay here, inside of Dean, forever, but then it was broken as Dean moved off of him and lay back down. He looked into trusting green eyes and kissed flushed lips before he lay down as well, and watched Dean fall asleep again.
When he was sure that Dean would not stir, he got up and went to the bathroom where he wiped himself off, and then he went back into the bedroom and got dressed. He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at Dean, whose skin was illuminated in the moonlight, his face soft and young. Castiel wanted to break down and scream and cry, but he did not let those emotions mar the last time he would look at Dean. He would let this moment carry him through as he went to Lucifer, and let his father claim him in order to protect Dean.
He turned away and swallowed the sob that threatened to break free. He quietly made his way down the stairs and out of the house to his Mustang, which he pushed to the edge of the drive before he climbed in and drove away. He wondered if the sound of the engine had woken Dean, and then he let himself cry.
