Dean heard a knock on his front door. He looked at the clock, frowning. It was one in the morning. He wrenched himself from his seat on his couch, pausing the Dr. Sexy episode he'd TiVo'd, lesson plans all laid out on the coffee table. He heard the knocking again as he made his way to the door.
"Alright, alright, I'm comin'," he shouted, "This had better not be a serial killer or something 'cause let me tell you I have just had too good a weekend for it to be ruined by-" He wrenched open the door to find his angel of Thursday, smiling and slightly out of breath.
"I'm glad you had a good time," Castiel said, before launching himself at Dean, catching him in a filthy kiss. Dean's hands automatically gripped Cas' hips, licking into the man's mouth with abandon as they stumbled back into his apartment. Dean broke the kiss, chest heaving as they stood touching in his entryway.
"Um…wow. Wow," Dean breathed against Cas' skin, "It's good to see you, Cas."
"Samandriel finally fell asleep," Castiel panted, fingers tracing eagerly over Dean's chest to slip beneath the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down, "Gabriel's staying with him for one more night. I thought we could-one more-"
"Yeah," Dean agreed quickly, going to work on the buttons of Castiel's shirt, "Absolutely. God damn, you're hot like this, Cas." Already Castiel was mouthing at the skin of his neck, lips and teeth skimming over barely faded hickeys that made Dean gasp, riding the line between pain and pleasure like it was his fucking job. Dean reached behind Cas to shut the front door so he could slam him up against it, pressing a thigh between Cas' legs. Castiel rutted against Dean roughly as they kissed, mouths open and hot on each other's skin. Cas' head hit the door with a solid thunk as Dean licked a stripe clean up his neck, his hands scrabbling for the hem of Dean's t-shirt.
"You," Castiel growled, yanking Dean's shirt over his head, "Have a lovely apartment."
"Thanks," Dean laughed, then gasped again as Cas' fingers tweaked a nipple, "You should see the bedroom." Castiel shook his head, his face flushed with desire and exertion.
"No time," he insisted, and then Dean was flat on his back on the living room carpet.
"Holy shit," was all Dean had time to say, before Castiel was pinning him down and his amazing mouth knocked the wind clean out of him.
"Dean. Can you take me with you when you leave? I need to meet Gabriel in the student parking lot."
"Uh…sure. Why don't you just take your car?"
"I left it with Gabriel. He needed it to take Samandriel to school if I was…otherwise occupied."
"How did you even get over here if you didn't drive?"
"I took a bus."
"What bus runs at one o'clock in the morning?"
"I chose not to question it. How are you?"
"…Stellar. Why?"
"I thought you might be sore."
"Yeah, and I like it. How about you? Any rug burn?"
"Yes. …I think I like it as well."
"…Alright, let's get going. It's almost seven-thirty, and it sucks but we can't just lay here and cuddle all day."
"That is regrettable."
Dean gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly as they sat in the faculty parking lot.
"What's wrong?" Castiel rested a hand on Dean's thigh.
"I'm just getting ready," Dean said, "Once we're in the building I have to be Mr. Winchester, and you have to be Mr. Novak again."
Castiel's hand moved to Dean's cheek, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Dean's lips. "Only for a week."
Dean moved his mouth against his, savoring his taste, chasing the Castiel's lips when he pulled away with a contented sigh.
"There's somethin' I want to say to you," Dean began, but Castiel smiled and shook his head.
"Later," Castiel promised, "You're going to be late, and those kids need their teacher."
Dean shook his head. "There's time for this."
"Yes," Castiel agreed, "There is. All the time we want." He stroked Dean's cheek with the tips of his fingers before shooing him out of the car.
"Call me tonight," Castiel told him through the car window, "You can tell me anything you like."
"I will," Dean promised with a grin, grabbing his jacket, "So get ready."
Castiel waited until Dean was inside before gathering his own things. He looked around the interior of the Impala, stroking absentmindedly at the dashboard. Already the somewhat intimidating vehicle was starting to feel like home, as was the man who drove it. Castiel smiled. He was getting ahead of himself again. Castiel emerged from the Impala, thanking her silently for her welcome as he headed to the student parking lot. Hopefully he would still have time to meet Samandriel before he had to go to class.
Dean was just putting on some soft music for rest time, all nine of his students snuggled in their nap mats, when Ellen got his attention with a hand on the small of his back.
"Principle Singer wants to see you," she told him softly.
"Yeah, family dinner's tomorrow, right?" Dean asked, confused, "You can tell Bobby I'm not gonna miss it again-" Ellen shook her head.
"Not Bobby, Principle Singer," she corrected him, "He's in the hallway. He says he needs you for a minute." Dean looked up to see Bobby in the doorway, looking uncomfortable as usual in his suit and tie. He waved Dean over, and Dean followed him out into the hallway.
"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted him, "Did you get your Father's Day gift alright?" Bobby chuckled.
"Yeah, Ellen draped it over my chair when I came down for breakfast," Bobby told him, "It was real sweet of you boys, not to get all feely or nothin'."
"So what merits my lowly classroom a visit from Principle Singer?" Dean joked, mostly out of nerves. He almost never saw Bobby at school, mainly out of his surrogate father's efforts not to look like he was playing favorites. If Bobby was in his room, it was usually not good news.
"I got a complaint about you today," Bobby informed him, "I wanted you to know before it got through the grapevine."
"What?" Dean exclaimed, "Who from?"
The old man snorted. "Who do you think? Lilith Talbot can't keep her goddamned nose out of anybody's business."
"What did she have to say?" Dean asked cautiously crossing his arms over his chest.
"That she saw you and Castiel Novak macking in the parking lot this morning," Bobby said with a shrug, as if he was not at all surprised. Sam, Dean cursed silently. That moose couldn't keep his mouth shut.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her that you were a professional and that your personal life was your own goddamned business," Bobby said," O'course she tried to go off on me about exposing her child to 'inappropriate lifestyles' or some crap. I told her to go reread the section in our mission statement on teaching our students tolerance and understanding of all kinds of people and if she didn't like it then she could fork up the cash to send her kids to private school. That shut her up right quick."
Dean felt the knots in his stomach ease one by one.
"Thanks Bobby," he said, "It means a lot."
"That's 'Principal Singer' to you, boy," Bobby corrected him gruffly, "And keep it off school grounds next time. I can't have the staff sucking face in the parking lot. Gives the wrong impression."
Dean grinned. "Yessir." He turned to return to his classroom, but Bobby caught him suddenly by the arm. The old man looked at him with fatherly affection, but also concern.
"What's up Bobby?" Dean asked. Principal Singer sighed.
"There's gonna be flack for this Dean," he told him, "And I'm gonna stand by you. But I won't be able to protect you from all of it. So I need you to ask yourself, honestly: Is this gonna be worth the trouble it's gonna cause you?"
For a second Dean felt fear. He felt the suspicious gazes of close-minded parents, and the harsh words tossed around in the staff room when they thought he couldn't hear. But then he felt the strong grip of a slender hand on his knee in the car, he felt the thunder in his chest as a whiskey rough voice whispered in his ear, and he felt the gaze of a pair of steady blue eyes, full of want and trust and maybe something more. Dean smiled, clapping Bobby on the shoulder.
"I really think it is Bobby," he said, "For the first time, I really think so."
The old man grinned, shaking his head.
"Alright then 'ya lovesick idjit, get back to your kids."
"Yessir."