AN: Sorry, nothing overtly sexual this chapter. Just some more good old fashion hazing.
Aaaand my timeline got blown out of the water. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to get Friday Evening up tomorrow, but most likely not since I have to pack and get things ready at work :/
When Castiel first made his class schedule, he'd been relieved for the late start on Fridays. With only one class before free hour, he thought it'd be a great time for him to catch up on sleep or to get a few runs in. Both of which were of course completely out of the question at the moment. Jerking off helped take some of the edge off, but it could only do so much to calm his nerves or distract him from the anticipation buzzing along his skin like a physical itch.
The walk to class is a challenge. Using a dildo is a lot different than wearing a plug, which he supposes he knew intellectually but lacked the first hand experience to really understand the difficulties it would pose. He's fucked himself roughly in the past and felt the burn the next day, and while this borders on a similar type of discomfort, it is acutely different. Every step he takes, every time he sits down, every time he fidgets in his seat just serves as a reminder.
And honestly, he loves it.
He sits through his English class and listens to the professor try to educate them on the difference between irony vs dramatic irony. Half the class seems confused while Cas couldn't be more bored. Well, perhaps that's unfair. He's not bored, his mind is merely elsewhere.
(Somewhere with a bowlegged boy with green eyes and freckles and damn he's totally fucked.)
(Hopefully literally.)
Class ends and he's a little stiff when he gets up, needing time to re-adjust when he's on his feet again, and it causes some curious looks. Which in turn makes him first blanch and then flush, but... there's no way they could know. No. Nothing about him screams deviant, right? Hell, he's probably imagining the attention he's getting.
"You alright, Castiel?"
It's the sort of cute girl, April he thinks her name is, frowning at him in concern. He remembers briefly entertaining a crush on her the first couple days of class. Then his world suddenly shifted to focus on Dean. Still, he feels himself go even redder at he attention. Which hopefully won't give mixed signals.
"I- I, uh, I'm just a bit sore. From pledge week." Surprisingly close to the truth, but all it does is make April's frown deepen in confusion. "My, uhm... my lower back is killing me from all the workouts they have us doing."
Her mouth rounds in an O of understanding and she smiles. "Well, take it easy and good luck today!"
"Thanks!" he calls after her before he wonders... Good luck with what?
All the pledges are scheduled to be at the quad during free hour. He's a couple minutes late (he has to walk so damn slowly, each step measured carefully - it's driving him crazy) and sees that most if not the whole fraternity is there, milling around outside a large party tent. Someone notices him shuffling over and they pull open the flap, ushering him inside.
There are more of them inside, most of them sitting around in lawn chairs and drinking clandestinely from bottles hidden in paper bags. He spots Dean among them, talking with Victor and Chuck, but he doesn't go over. The pledges are on the opposite side of the tent, and it wouldn't fit into the pledge/pledge leader dynamic to go up to him now. It doesn't spot him from taking a quick glance, studying the relaxed way he chuckles or shares a beer with Victor (or how he's changed his shirt from this morning), before heading in the other direction.
He finds Kevin and Samandriel and the rest of their group. They all look nervous, and he feels he somehow missed the memo on whatever the fuck they're doing. Maybe he should've invested some time in looking up school traditions, especially in regards to Sigma Sigma Beta, because he's been flying blind the whole week. Oh well, it's the last day. Not like knowing would save him from whatever embarrassment is in store next.
Before he can ask, Benny shows up which gets the frat brothers cheering and holding up their beers in greeting. He settles them down with a look and an eye roll (too affectionate to cow them at all) and faces the pledges.
"This here's y'all's walk o shame. We've invited everyone on campus, and they're all out there lined up the quad waitin' for you to give 'em a little show." He gestures towards some boxes and a couple of the older boys open them and spread the contents out on the table in front of them. Even from this distance, it's not hard to make out that there's nothing but women's lingerie and heels. The pledges share a look, some filled with apprehension, others with silent resignation, as Benny continues.
"Each of you will get one of these fine little outfits to strut your stuff in as you walk across the quad. Winners from yesterday's matches, y'all get first dibs. Choose wisely. You're allowed to wear your boxers underneath, but the rest we're confiscating and holdin' hostage til this evening. If you're fast, you might make it across the quad in time to head back to your dorms before your next class. Otherwise, you'll be lookin' mighty fine all day."
Kevin groans, shoulders slumped. "God dammit," he mutters, "I have class right after this and my dorm is across campus."
"Guess you'll be late then."
"Seriously, Alfie, could you at least *pretend* to feel my pain?"
They're lined up by their rankings from the wrestling. Jolly Green Giant goes first, picking a skimpy naughty nurse costume that was obviously some girl's Halloween costume. He'll bust right out of it with that broad chest, but it's not nearly as damning as some of the rest of the outfits.
(As he waits, Cas tries to steal glimpses of Dean. Most of the time he's distracted, too busy joking around, but one time he happens to look up when Dean's eyes are on him. He smiles and Dean doesn't look away. No, he keeps starring, looking at him predatorily and making Cas suppress a shiver. In the end, he's the one who looks away first.)
Cas is second, and he's thankful for it. He sees the negligees and immediately passes over them. He happens to spot a coconut bikini getup and snatches it up. He relinquishes his clothing without complaint and puts on the coconut top and grass skirt while he watches the other pledges go through more and more startling outfits. There's slim pickings by the end, leaving some of them to wear loose corsets, pump up bras, and thongs. Even over their boxers, it looks ridiculous.
(They've seen each other in their boxers before, and no one seems to pick up on the fact that Cas isn't in his usual boxer briefs. Oh no, given the opportunity, he's continued wearing Dean's boxers. They're barely visible under the skirt, but he likes wearing them.)
While the others get dressed, Cas waits by the edge of the tent. Chuck wanders by and peeks a glance outside, his eyebrows wide as he turns back inside. "Good turn out this year."
"I thought you were against pledge week." He doesn't mean to sound scolding, but his something of that shows through in his tone. Chuck doesn't seem to care though.
"I'm morally opposed, I guess, but I support some of the traditions."
"Why does this and the wrestling tournament make the cut?"
Chuck shrugs. "I told you, I'm a legacy. My dad joined and my mom saw him at the wrestling tournament. And the walk across the quad is where they first kissed, so that kinda sealed the deal."
"... They kissed during this ridiculous walk?"
"Oh? Uh, yeah." And with that, Chuck wanders off, clearly having said too much.
The fuck?
Once everyone is dressed, they get ready at edge of the tent. It's taken about half an hour to get this far, giving them another half hour to get across and back to their dorms. Which is reasonable, all things considered. The walk across the quad might take five to ten minutes. Running would be far less time. Cas will be taking it slow, but so will the pledges who ended up with ridiculously tall pairs of heels. Hell, Cas might even be able to stick back with them as a show of solidarity to keep people wondering why he's walking.
There's no way he'll be able to make it back to his dorm. He knows that much. Like Kevin, he has a class almost immediately after free hour. His dorm's not far, but he'd never be able to walk fast enough to get back and change. Which is why he's pleased he did so well yesterday - sitting in a crowded lecture hall looking like he came from a luau isn't ideal, but it's certainly not the *worst* outfit here.
(Dean *knew* this was today, knew it and purposely picked today to give him a friggin butt plug. Un-friggin-believable. He sends a glare Dean's way. All he gets back is a faux innocent little look that screams, "Whoops." His shit eating grin, however, belies that sentiment.)
(Ugh, don't be impressed by that. Do not be turned on.)
"Y'all ready?" They nod at Benny's question, some getting in position to run. "Oh, I might've forgotten to mention something. Brothers, did I forget anything?" They snicker and Cas narrows his eyes. "There is one little extra facet of this walk I might've left out. See, as y'all make your way across the quad, you're gonna have to stop for anyone who calls you by your nickname. And then you're gonna walk over to them and plant a big ol' smooch on their cheek."
"That doesn't sound too bad," one of the pledges says hesitantly.
"No, I suppose it don't." Benny pulls back the flap to reveal hundreds of people lining the quad. Someone gulps audibly. "Don't look too great, though, does it?"
They continue to stare until Benny whistles at them and shouts, "Get to it!"
There's a rush of pledges who run across. They barely get twenty feet before the shouting starts. Cas isn't sure how these people found out their nicknames, but they definitely know. He sees those in front of him already getting called to the sidelines, obediently kissing the cheeks of everyone who happens to know their nickname.
Some of the pledges are working their way across the quad with a single minded determination - Kevin, for example, stops for the half second it takes to make contact (and sometimes it looks like he doesn't even do that) before attempting to run again - while others take their time to flirt with the others. He's pretty sure he sees someone actually pick up a few numbers and there's definitely a pledge up ahead kissing a girl on the lips.
Now he's starting to see how Chuck's parents might have gotten their start thanks to Sigma Sigma Beta.
His own walk isn't particularly eventful. Calls of "Pretty Boy!" ring out every now and then. He walks over and dutifully kisses each of them on the cheek. One of the girls tries to turn at the last second to steal a real kiss, but they end up hitting each other in the nose. They laugh it off and this time she lets him kiss her cheek, though she pouts when she waves good-bye. It allows him the luxury of a slow pace, something to hide the way the plug moves inside of him with each step.
And it's completely reasonable for him to take his time. He notes how some of the other boys that rushed ahead are now about even with him. Poor Samandriel is surprisingly popular and gets stopped by pretty much everyone, guy and girl alike. He's well behind everyone, though his shy smile seems to indicate he at least enjoys the attention.
As he nears the far end of the quad, he sees that most of the Sigma Sigma Beta brothers have relocated there. They've lost the booze, but they're still loudly heckling the pledges as they reach the unmarked finish line. Aaron occasionally asks for kisses, and as he gets closer he can hear Victor giving him shit for it.
("You fuckin' creeper."
"What? It's a tradition and it's fun and shut up! If they were chicks, you'd be diggin it to.")
Cas is nearly done, maybe five feet left in his trek, when he hears a deep voice resonate over the crowd.
"Pretty Boy, c'mere and give me a kiss."
Ice flows through his veins and he's lucky it's that instead of arousal. Because Dean calling him over, publicly asking for a kiss (even if it's something as innocuous as a peck on the cheek)... That's stepping over whatever invisible line they've drawn, right? This is... visible. Real.
Admittedly, he wants it to be real. But it's still a scary thought.
His body obeys automatically, walking right up to Dean. Far too close to pretend that they haven't been this close before, haven't been closer. Dean licks his lips but stares right at him. He holds Dean's eyes for far too long, then leans in, brushes his lips against his cheek and places the gentlest kiss right along the line of his stubble.
He's about to pull away when he hears Dean whisper into his ear, "I don't care how many of these chicks you got to kiss, don't forget that you're mine. You got that?"
Dean's words sound harsh and demanding, but there's something uncertain in his expression that makes Cas' heart clench up uncomfortably.
So he offers the easiest comfort he can think of. He looks at Dean and pointedly shakes his hips a little as he walks away. Whether Dean sees his boxers underneath the grass skirt is almost irrelevant, because he will certainly remember what else is hidden.
There's a throaty laugh behind him.
Apparently he got the hint.