(Mature for language, mentions of past bas shit, and fetish-y content.) Bit of a slow burn, and real age play stuff isn't introduced for a bit, as we ease into things, but after that, it's pretty much all or nothing. No turning back once that big "yes", after all. *wink*
One of three big stories in the works at the moment. (Including the next in the series for For The Best!) I've got a few chapters done, and more being worked on. There's no set time for updates, as I want to spread them out while I write so I don't drop everything at once and leave you guys hanging for TOO long between chapters.
Chris is, of course, an original character, and one that I use frequently. He's my softer boy, as opposed to Elliot, who's a hardass. I'll throw some basic info here, as I don't have a full sheet on him yet. Some info has been changed to fit with this particular story, of course.
Name; Warren Christopher Harper
Age; Twenty-Three
Height; 5'6''
Looks; Black hair, to his ears, a little wavy, bright green eyes. Pale with freckles along his nose and cheeks. Slim build, but strong. Wears blue rimmed glasses.
Gender; Male (Trans, FtM - Post top surgery, currently on hormone injections)
Personality; Shy, but friendly. Likes being around people, loves hugs and cuddle and affection, but is too nervous/scared to ever seek these things out due to past BS and fear of trans/homophobes. Hard worker, doesn't like NOT being able to do something or help out. Doesn't have a dominant bone in his body, but can be firm on things he believes in.
BDSM Status; He's not vanilla, but chooses not to talk about or indulge in any kinks he has expressed interest in over the years. Has no actual experience with littles/age play, though has read a bit about it before.
xxXxx
Chapter One
It was mid-July when I met Cas for the first time. It was a nice day, if not oddly cool for being the middle of summer. I was on campus—Crestview Community College—working out my revised (once again) schedule, with one of the administrators. My boss was decidedly less than happy about the number of texts I hadn't answered, so I wound up having to cut a couple of the classes that I had actually been looking forward to taking.
I know, I know. Why do it? Why not... I don't know, try to reason with my boss or maybe just move the classes around? Well, there is no reasoning with my boss and I was already on thin ice... so it was easier to just drop the classes now and take an extra semester to make up for it. I needed the money far more than I would care to admit, and the job did pay really, really well... it sucked, but you do what you have to in order to get by.
It was as I was leaving the administrators office that I bumped into him, and I kind of mean that literally. I was lost in my head, trying to work out how much my check was going to be for the week, what I needed to buy, what would go towards bills and food... and I sort of walked right into the guy. Being smaller, I stumbled back and landed, quite painfully, on my butt. He spilled a bit of coffee and dropped the book that was in his hand, but was otherwise alright.
It was with a heavy sigh that I readjusted my glasses, grabbing up the book as I stood. I was okay, other than a little annoyed, but it was my fault. "My apologies/I'm sorry-" We spoke at the same time and I couldn't help but let out a laugh, a small smile on my face.
"No, no. I'm sorry, sir. I should have been paying attention to where I was walking." I tried to be as polite as possible, despite my souring mood.
The man smiled back at me, his own much wider than mine as he took back his book. "I could say the same thing. I had my nose buried in this." With a nod to the book, he laughed, sliding it under the arm carrying his coffee. "Are you a student here?"
For a long few seconds, I just stared at him, blinking in what I guess I could describe as shock. People usually didn't attempt to initiate actual conversation with me. It was usually a quick 'hey' and they'd keep on with their business. "Oh—I, uhm, yeah. Only part time though. I have classes some weekday evenings. Do.. you work here?"
He nodded. "I'm a counselor actually. I'm surprised we haven't met before. I usually meet every student at least once."
"Oh, I ah.. I try to avoid seeing school counselors." I fidgeted, chewing on my bottom lip. It was the truth, but now that I was staring one of them in the face, I kind of wanted to avoid offending him or something. "N-not that I have a problem with any of you, I just don't—I have—uhm.." Oh man, way to go, Chris. Fucking up the first real conversation you'd had outside of work in forever.
The man didn't seem irritated though. He... actually looked like he understood what I was trying to say. "I understand completely. It's not an easy experience for some." I nodded, sighing. "I am running a bit late for a meeting, but I'd like to give you my card..." With his free hand, he dug around in the pocket of his slacks, tongue sticking out a bit in concentration. "Aha! Here we are." The card was held out to me, though I simply stared at it. "I know how it is, talking to someone like me, especially for the first time, but if you ever need me..."
I was hesitant, but in the end, I took the card, quickly glancing over it. Castiel Winchester. I smiled once again, tilting my head. Interesting name. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester. I'm.. Chris." Well, Chris was my middle name, but no one ever called me by my first.
His eyes lit up and he beamed at me as I spoke my name. "It is nice to meet you as well. Hopefully, I'll see you again soon. Have a good evening, Chris."
Then he was gone, hurrying past me and towards the very building I had only just come out of. I glanced over his card one more time before shoving it into my pocket. It wasn't likely that I would ever contact him, but it was still a nice gesture.
My phone began to beep loudly and I took it out of my pocket to check—an alarm. Sighing, I started walking again, albeit faster than before. I had to get to work.
ooOoo
Oddly enough (at least to me), the second time that I ran into Mr. Winchester was exactly one week later. Another Friday, though this time I was on my way home from work. It had been a morning shift, since they just wanted me there to help load up the trucks for a run and I was looking forward to finally getting a bit of a break. The boss told me that I wasn't tagging along so that they could give the new guys a chance to 'show their stuff'.
I wasn't going to complain though. At all. It meant that I had the entire afternoon and evening to myself to relax and get other work done.
The cafe that I liked to go to (because it was damn near impossible to get any work done at the apartment), was a cute little place, owned and run by an older woman and her husband. Their kids, four teenagers, helped out when they weren't in school or at their own job. The place was never too busy, and they had the absolute best carrot cake that I had ever tasted. I liked to try and pop in at least once a week if I could manage it.
That's where I was, sitting at the corner table in front of the large glass display window, nursing a cup of iced berry tea in one hand while a plate of half eaten cake sat on the table as I tapped away at my laptop. I still had a couple of months before classes started (I'd waited too long to sign up for summer courses), so I was mostly killing time, doing research and working on things that would help me for class... well, and typing up my schedule for the week.
Anyhow, as I was saying, Mr. Winchester. Well, it was just as I was getting to the bottom of my second cup of tea that the bell to the front door jingled. As I always did, I looked up and surprise surprise, there he was, dressed similarly to how he was the previous week—nice slacks, a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, though he was lacking a tie this time around.
I didn't allow my eyes to linger on him, not wanting to attract his attention, and instead turned back to my cake, which still needed to be eaten. As luck would have it, he noticed me anyway and I knew what he wanted without even having to look up. "May I?" He motioned to the seat across from mine and not knowing how to reply without sounding rude, as I really wanted to tell him 'no', I simply shrugged.
This was seen as a 'yes' in his mind and he sat down before me. Figuring it would be rude to continue working now that I had... company, I closed my laptop, sliding it down and into my bag. "I must say, I didn't think that I'd be seeing you again so soon." Mr. Winchester was smiling as he spoke, sipping his own cup of something or another. I didn't really know what to say, not that I ever do, so I just offered a small smile. "I'm sorry if I've disrupted your work."
"Oh, no, uhm—no, you didn't. I wasn't really working on anything important. Just... passing the time." I poked at the remainder of my cake with the fork. "Sorry if I don't seem very... welcoming, I guess?" I sighed, shoulders drooping. "I'm not very good at talking to people."
Mr. Winchester continued to smile, tilting his head. "I thought I just made you nervous." Which wasn't entirely untrue, but hell, everyone made me nervous to some degree. "Do you come here often?"
I nodded, nibbling at my cake. "About once a week... it depends on work." I gave a small shrug. I'd love to be able to come by more often, but that just meant I'd be eating way too much carrot cake. "How about you?"
"Oh, I come a few times a week at least, though I don't stay. It's usually only to pick up something for my husband." His tone of voice changed as he said that—he was testing me, seeing how I would react to him being gay. I didn't give him a reaction though—no shocked look, no quiet gasp. I just stared, patiently waiting for him to continue. "He goes on and on about the desserts here and always wants to try whatever Mrs. Evans can come up with."
At that, I had to smile. "I do that. I mean, try everything. She calls me her personal guinea pig because I'll try anything at least once." A sad but true fact, especially when it came to food. I freaking love food. "Though I've taken a particular liking to the carrot cake."
"You like sweets?"
I nodded, dipping my finger into the icing. "Very much. I can only enjoy them here, though. My roommate manages to sniff out and eat anything I bring home." Unless I opted to hide it in my room, but that wasn't something I liked to do. Darren, my roommate, had particularly bad habits that attracted insects... and I didn't want to make it worse. "Do you like them?"
Mr. Winchester hmm'd, thinking it over. "Occasionally. I like tarts, tortes, parfaits. Anything with fruit. Sam, my husband, loves everything. Cakes, cookies, ice cream, muffins. But only homemade." I nodded, understanding completely. Homemade food always tasted better. "He's quite the chef actually."
Chef, huh? If he worked professionally, I'd probably met him once or twice, at least in passing. Bellfor worked with a lot of different restaurants in the area. "Can you cook?"
"Not at all." He said with a grin, the fact not bothering him in the least. "I'm not allowed to try anymore either—not after Sam realized that I have the apparently amazing ability to burn water." Burn... water... how the f- I stared, blinking, my brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to figure out how in the world someone managed to burn water. "We haven't figured out how I managed it, but I did. It, well... I was boiling water for tea... and it caught on fire."
Okay, I laughed. I couldn't help it. I tried to keep it low, not wanting to upset him, but the giggles kept rolling out. Never in my life had I met someone that could set water on fire while making tea of all things.
Thankfully, he didn't mind my laughter. "Yes, yes. Laugh away." He just smiled and I did manage to stop after a few more moments, my cheeks tinted in embarrassment. "What about you? How are your cooking skills?"
Head tilted, I grinned. "I can work the microwave and make anything that comes with straight forward instructions." I couldn't just cook something. I had to have some form of simple instructions to follow or it turned out... Well, not even Darren could stomach my attempts at being creative and he eats McDonalds on an almost daily basis. I could appreciate food. Hell, as I said, I love food, but making it? Naaaah.
We wound up sitting there for quite a while, which was weird as shit... but also kind of cool. We sat and talked, chatting about whatever topic happened to come up—from food to work to school and everything in between. He seemed genuinely interested in my life and I honestly couldn't wrap my head around that.
It wasn't until the sun started to go down that I realized we'd been sitting there for well over three hours. I couldn't remember the last time I had such a good time talking with someone. It was... really nice, actually, but all good things must come to an end.
"I should head home.." It came out more as a mumble than anything, mostly because I really didn't want to. Darren was going out with Emily, his girlfriend, though which meant I needed to try and clean up around the apartment while I had the chance. The smell was starting to make me sick. "I—I uhm.. I had a nice time talking with you, Mr. Winchester."
"And I, you, Chris. It's getting late though, would you like me to give you a ride?" I bit my lower lip, fidgeting nervously. It would be nice. I mean, the walk home was an hour, at least, and the last bus to come near the cafe was at six, and it was eight...
The issue was that he was a stranger. Well, I guess not a stranger but I also didn't really know him. We'd met twice and spent a fair amount of time talking though.. and he did work at he college, so he couldn't be a bad person. Of course, being who I am, it felt like every fiber of my being was screaming out 'HELL NO' at the very idea, but I also know that I'm just an anxious person. So, taking a deep breath, I passed off those thoughts as me just being paranoid, and nodded.
"That w-would be lovely, sir, b-but only if you're sure. I'd hate to inconvenience you..."
"It's not an inconvenience at all. I promise. You'll just need to point me in the right direction." He smiled and I nodded again. We stood and I pushed in my chair and fixed up the table décor before slinging my bag over my shoulder and bringing my dishes up to the counter. Mrs. Evans took them with a bright smile and a thanks, and I slid her a tip as well. I always tipped them at least a five—they definitely deserved it.
Mr. Winchester returned his dishes as well and I hesitantly followed him out of the cafe, one hand gripping the strap of my bag. His car was... not anything like what I would have expected a guy like him to drive. It was old, very old, and beige in colour. The kind of car my sister would have dubbed a 'pimp-mobile'. It didn't matter to me, I mean. So long as it gets you where you need to be, it's a good car in my opinion.
Taking a deep, deep breath, I steadied myself and climbed into the passenger's seat, buckling up and setting my bag on my lap. We didn't talk quite as much during the ride as we had in the cafe, with me pointing and giving directions, but it was a nice ride. Short, but nice.
When we pulled up to the apartment complex, I looked out at the building and let out a heavy sigh. Mr. Winchester gave me a look of what I could only think was concern, but I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. It was one thing to talk about mundane topics like food and work and whatnot with a near-stranger but I wasn't going to talk about my personal life. "Thank you so much for this, Mr. Winchester. I really do appreciate it."
"It was no problem at all, Chris. I'm glad that I was able to be of some assistance." He smiled now, though was still giving me that look. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call." Oh, yeah, I still had his card... somewhere.
I nodded, though tensed up considerably as I saw him moving his hand, aiming to put it on my shoulder. It was a simple gesture, one typically of comfort, but—thankfully, he noticed my reaction and without me having to say anything, pulled his hand back, his smile turning sad, apologetic.
"I-I-I'm sorry—I didn't—I-" I couldn't. I just couldn't.
I stumbled out of the car and fucking bolted towards the building. I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the look he'd be sure to give me. One that was of pity.. pity mixed with confusion... and disgust. It was the look everyone gave me when they started to realize that something about me was 'off'.
xxXxx
Note; All places, schools, companies, etc are entirely fictional. Makin' 'em up as I go. Any similarity to real places is entirely coincidental. Some bits of information about the shows actual characters (Sam, Dean, Cas, etc) have been pulled from various fics I've read over the years. Nothing big, just small things like hobbies, maybe a particular taste or personality quirk. I can't recall any actual fic name they've come from, it's been so long, but props to those authors for giving the characters such proper fitting things that they've stuck with me all this time.
As for Chris's job, again, all made up stuff. I don't know how catering/food-type companies work for the most part, and I'm sure his breaks so many work and health code violations it should be shut down, but hey, it's a story. Roll with it lol.
Fun fact here; my sister and I actually DID manage to burn water while making tea once... sort of! Not... entirely sure how we managed that one, but we set the kettle on, next thing we know, the kettle's on fire and the water is gone. No damage to the house or kitchen, but we did lose our favourite kettle.
