Warning: small M bit

"Yes, I'm being a good boy, Anna," Castiel spoke softly. Dean couldn't help but notice he spoke actual sentences to his older sister. He imagined it had something to do with the fact that they were family, or maybe even because she was just a girl. "Mhmm. He takes me out for ice cream every night!" he paused to sigh. "No, he isn't making fun of me, Anna," he spoke in a harsh whisper. "Dean is treating me very well."

It bugged Dean that Anna thought so lowly of him, but he shrugged it off as an overprotective older sister thing.

Castiel had been over for three days now. It was Thursday morning and Castiel had become very acquainted to living with Dean. When he sat down to watch TV or some movie, Castiel would seek him out and snuggle in his small body next to him and pull the covers around them.

Maybe the kid was just super affectionate and this was his way of warming up to Dean. Sure, that was believable. Dean accepted that answer, but it didn't mean he believed it. He had the inkling of an idea that it possibly had something to do with the fact that the first night Cas came, he jerked off with the boy's panties. In distinct detail, Dean could remember Cas coming down the next morning—his wild hair a mess and small hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and in a little voice he asked, "Sir, do you know where my panties go from last night?"

Dean had blushed immensely and demanded that Castiel never (and he emphasized that) called him that again, and then continued to timidly spit out a lie of how he had actually come in to clean up Jo's things while the dark haired boy was asleep and it must've gotten lost in her things.

Thankfully, the boy with crazy bedhead nodded and excused himself to go freshen up. Dean nodded in response, his face red with embarrassment, and went back to eating his half burned toast.

There was little to no talking though. Dean was so ashamed of himself that over the last two days he would dismiss himself in the mid morning to head to work at the garage he owned and leave Cas with forty dollars for lunch and shopping if he so chooses to. If it was during the daytime, Dean felt safer letting him walk around on the streets wearing… Well, what he liked to wear.

Also, before he left, he gave Castiel the privilege of keeping a close eye on Ruby. The second day on Tuesday Castiel had squealed girlishly and squeezed the rabbit to his chest in an adorable embrace. Dean looked down before he smiled and crouched to the dark haired boy's level and smiled. "Hey, it's a miracle she hasn't bit you yet," he said sarcastically but in a soft voice.

Castiel looked up at Dean with the most innocent blue eyes and the older man had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep him from calling in sick and fucking the young man on the floor.

His parting words were simple. "Treat her well. If she bites you, clean the cut first and then put her in her cage. Make sure to tell her she's been a bad girl, too," he instructed, picking up his keys and wallet. "I'll be back at three or so. Make sure you get some lunch so when your sister comes back I won't get backhanded for starving you, yeah?"

The comment was lost, Dean noticed as he turned around and saw Castiel playing with Ruby on her two hind feet and holding her front paws in his hands, giving them small shakes. "Hello Ms. Ruby, I am your new roommate, Castiel!"

Okay seriously, his hand was practically twitching to collect his cell phone and call in that he was feeling totally under the weather. No. No.

xXx

The clock read two forty-five. Dean had had it just about to here with an obnoxious female client, complaining about how she got her Mercedes-Benz back to be in worse shape then when she dropped it off.

Dean had to take almost two hours explaining to her that she needed to recharge the car battery.

Finally once she left in a humiliated huff, he had gone out and gotten a decent lunch with his friends who worked there with him, namely Ash and Crowley. They both had accents—very different, and very obnoxious; Ash was from the south, and Crowley was born in Scotland.

But now it was early afternoon and Dean couldn't stop glancing at his watch. He wasn't sure what it was, but he had this primal instinct to rush home and make sure that Castiel was safe and okay and tucked in.

"Day dreaming, Princess?" came a gruff voice from beside him.

Dean chuckled, seeing his manager, Bobby Singer, entering his office. "Hey, Bobby. And yeah, I guess you could say that."

"You got a new girl or somethin'?" he asked curiously, pressing his hands to his hips.

"No, just tired," Dean said and on cue let out a silent yawn. He got up and stuffed his keys in his pocket. "I'm going to head home. I'm babysitting my little brother in law and the little runt…" Dean paused and felt his cheeks heat up. He was what? "He's a handful."

Bobby nodded. "Alright."

"I'm heading out. I'm going to check with the boys real quick, so see you soon, man," Dean said affectionately to his friend.

After getting stats checked with Ash and Crowley, Dean popped into his car and took off, intent on getting home quickly to check on Cas.

Castiel was nowhere to be found.

"Castiel!" Dean screamed. He checked every room in the house. The first floor was clear, and the basement came next. No Cas anywhere. Dean even checked the washing machines for fucks sake. "Cas?!" Brows furrowed, Dean ran up the stairs from the basement floor.

This was some freaky shit right now and Dean wasn't having it. He opened his front door and tore down the street, running as fast as he could.

"Dean?"

A small voice stopped him in his tracks and Dean whirled around to see his neighbor Samandriel standing on his front steps. Behind him stepped out a confused and puffy lipped Castiel. "Dean?" he asked too.

"Cas? What the fuck are you doing over here?" he asked, hardly able to contain his rage. Castiel was wearing a loose pale gray sweater that hung loose over his shoulder revealing his ivory skin. In his arms he held Ruby, her feet hanging in the air.

"You… You said I could go out. I went to go for a walk when I met Samandriel and we were just talking for a while."

Dean took account of Cas' messy hair and swollen lips. His anger returned and he glared at Samandriel. "Did you touch him?" he shouted, glaring at the boy like if maybe he squinted hard enough, he would vaporize.

Samandriel was a cocky shit. The two had only known each other for about a year, but the blond boy lived with his older brother Lucifer in the house two down from Dean and to him, neither of them seemed like good news.

"Didn't fuck him if that's what you wanted to know," Samandriel said, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling arrogantly at Dean. He popped a piece of candy into his mouth and shot a hot wink in Cas' direction.

Dean suddenly yanked Castiel in the direction of his house, immaturely flipping Samandriel the bird in their wake.

When Castiel was past Dean's threshold and the door closed securely behind them, the dirty blond haired man sighed and walked into his house, knowing Cas would follow behind.

"Did you let him touch you?" Dean demanded.

The bunny scurried out of Cas' hands and hopped away, leaving Castiel potentially defenseless. The younger boy turned his gaze from Dean's piercing emerald green eyes and looked down at the hardwood floor in shame.

"Answer the damn question, Cas!" he shouted louder now, enraged.

"I—!" Castiel gulped like a fish out of water and tears began pouring out of his eyes. "I didn't want him to, but he tried to touch my… Thingie… and licked my lips…" Castiel stuttered.

"No one, you hear me, is allowed to touch you if they don't have permission," Dean said, his voice dangerously low. "Fuck," he murmured. "I'm going to take off work tomorrow and keep an eye on you."

He reached for his phone and speed dialed his office. Bobby picked up on the second ring and Dean explained his situation.

"You sure, son?" Bobby asked over the phone.

Dean turned to the quietly sniffling boy and approached him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close. "Yeah. I'll be back in Monday," Dean said and hung up after a friendly goodbye.

Castiel clutched onto Dean's jacket and held tight. "Dean, I'm sorry I went to his house… He… He said he had candy and—"

Dean hushed Castiel. "You listen to me from now on, alright Cas?" Dean said sternly, finding himself a little shocked at how domineering he sounded.

"Yes, sir," Castiel responded, and the taller man decided maybe he did like that address a little bit. Call him a masochist; the name was a little appealing. Cas' grip tightened and he wiped his nose on Dean's thin grey tee. It was unsanitary and Dean scowled.

"Blow your nose. And take a shower, I don't like it when you wear make up," Dean also state, also shocked at the fact that Castiel immediately let go and went to the bathroom to grab a tissue. The boy came out ten seconds later and walked past Dean, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor as he did so and then scurried up the stairs down the hall.

What the fuck did he just begin?

xXx

Castiel came out smelling soapy fresh with the essence of green apple and foggy, overcast city days. It was confusing to explain, but delicious to breathe in when said boy exited the bathroom in only a lavender coloured towel.

"D—Dean—?"

"You got the make up off?" Dean asked simply.

Castiel nodded and Dean noticed that his face looked considerably creamier and soft looking, and Dean had an intense urge to reach out and just feel his cheek with the back of his fingers. He noticeably held himself back and walked past the boy and headed into his room, closing the door behind him.

The dark haired boy stood in the hallway dripping, looking after where the tall man had just been a moment ago.

He had been in this house with Dean for almost four days and the man had yet to pull a move on him. Like, seriously, how slutty did Castiel need to be for him to realize that he was open to, for instance, fucking on his dining room table?

Cas dropped his head and walked across the hallway to his room and closed it behind him. He dressed simply in a pair of black short shorts that were attached in the back to suspenders that crossed over his back and chest. Over than he threw a loose Henley tank top. He was incredibly tempted to apply more make up, but he listened to what Dean said about no more of that. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to organize it.

Sliding a hand down the front of his shorts, Castiel gave himself a tight tug. Instinctually, he let out a high moan and his eyes fell to a close. "Please…" he muttered to himself.

"Cas?" a voice filtered from the other side of the door and then a hard knock.

Castiel gasped in shock and pushed himself back into his shorts before Dean entered and looked around the room. "Dean?"

Dean eyed the boy oddly. "Going to the store. I'll be back in ten," he declared.

"I'll come with y—" Castiel tried to offer.

"No, you'll stay here. And don't comb your hair. It looks better messy." The door closed and Cas could hear Dean stepping down the stairs and then promptly out the door.

Castiel looked in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. Running a hand through his hair now, he gave his hair a shake and it fell back into its earlier thump.

Oh well, Castiel thought, now's my chance.

He skipped out of the room and down the hall to Dean's room. He nervously bit his lip—what he was about to do was beyond inappropriate and even a little restraining-order worthy.

The door quietly clicked behind him as he ventured in, taking in the heavy scent of male and Dean. Castiel stepped over to the walk in closet. Skimming through the shelves, he picked up a hoodie and then a pair of his dirtiest shoes on the floor. He checked around, nervous again, before walking back to the door to the hall when he stopped.

There was a hamper and inside held an interesting predicament: Those panties he was looking for?

Right at the top, unmistakable crusty white blotches.

Castiel wanted to jump for joy when realization dawned on him that he was making it at least a tiny bit hard for the man—he was succeeding in tempting him.

Digging around unabashedly, Castiel spied a used pair of briefs and fished them out. His eyebrows dropped and he looked at the piece of undergarment like it was a godsend.

Rushing into his own room, Castiel flopped onto the bed. The oversized hoodie slipped on with no resistance and he stuck his arms through the holes, inhaling deeply. His hand slid under his shorts and grasped himself once again, gripping tightly onto the pair of briefs that Dean had worn previously this week.

The shorts slipped past Cas' balls and the boy began thrusting into the bed sheets. It smelt faintly of feminine perfume or shampoo and the dark haired boy could only assume Dean's cousin had been in these sheets before.

Castiel licked the crotch of Dean's underwear and moaned into the article. It was absolutely delicious smelling and Castiel shoved the boxers into his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose.

He wasn't stimulated enough. He knew he did not have enough time to fuck his ass, but he could surely jack off in less than ten minutes. Small, muffled by the briefs, moans escaped Castiel's taut lips and his hand began to pump harder.

A shoe that Castiel had snatched from Dean's closet smelled as close to heaven as it got. Sweaty, yet it had that essence that was Dean. And Castiel couldn't put his finger on it, but it was just so manly, such a turn on. After all, Cas had always been attracted to men like Dean—older, Italian model-like sexy, and completely masochistic.

"A—uah!" Castiel screamed, and came with a snarl as he bit into the briefs, no doubt tearing the fabric. As he laid there in post orgasmic bliss, Cas breathed heavily, the fact that Dean could be home any minute dawning on him. Hastily, he snatched up the shoe and placed it back next to the match and then the boxer was tossed back into the hamper with care.

A loud slam notified Castiel that Dean was returning and so the boy rushed out of Dean's master bedroom and stood in the hall, breathing heavily as Dean began walking up the stairs. He looked ready to say something, but stopped when he took in Castiel's appearance.

The boy bit his lip, wondering what he might look like. Tired? Completely and utterly fucked-out? God forbid seductive? Then it hit him—the warm maroon red hoodie that he had slid on over his tank top…

"Sorry—I didn't think to bring my own and I got cold—" Castiel lied; he found his fingers reaching for the hem of the jacket, ready to take it off in embarrassment.

"No," Dean said abruptly, catching Castiel's smaller, softer one in his and keeping the hold. "Keep it on. It looks good on you," as he spoke a small smirk formed on his lips. In complete shock, the older man pushed past Cas and entered the bathroom, placing a plastic bag on the counter.

"It's almost five. You want to order in or make something quick?" Dean suggested from the other room. He seemed to be restocking something, but Cas didn't have the heart to glance over and look. Instead he felt himself lethargically leaning against the wall for support.

"Chinese, please," Castiel said in a small voice.

Dean exited, turning off the light behind him and placed his hand over Castiel's chest. "Come on, let's go order."

tbc