Chapter 1: Fun
The party was in full swing by the time Jo and Dean arrived. Loud music filled the air as the duo walked down the street towards the house. Because of how crowded the block was, they had to park a distance away. Walking up the steps, Dean receive multiple back slaps by people he knew from school and people he saw in the hallway in passing between classes.
After getting back from the Army base (where MEPS is located), Dean called Jo to update her on what happened. He is to complete his Senior year in high school and then he's due to ship off to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri for basic training on July 24. Because of his active life style as a football player, the recruiters aren't making it a requirement for him to attend physical training (pt) days during the week until the football season has been completed. In which case, he is to arrive at the recruiter office every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon by four o'clock to perform stretches and drills with his fellow future soldiers.
Walking into the house, his feet automatically moved his body towards the kitchen, the obvious place where the booze was located. No one else is to know about him joining the Army until after his eighteenth birthday in January, an agreement both Jo and Dean agreed upon, considering he faked his father's signature.
The kitchen area was crowded with more bodies than you would think was possible, but with drunk teenagers anything was possible. Jo and Dean never really hung out much at these parties anyway. They saw enough of each other during school and at home that they were able to just hang out with their own group of friends. One of them would drive the two there and then the other would have to find their own way home.
Dean grabbed a random plastic cup full of beer and chugged it. Tonight was definitely a night to celebrate. This time next year he'll be getting ready to pack a backpack with the bare minimal as an overnight bag for basic training. He was finally getting out of this hell hole of a town.
It's not that Dean didn't love his friends and family here. He'll miss Bobby and Ellen. They practically raised him. And he'll definitely miss Sam. Sammy, who will only be fourteen when he leaves and just entering high school. But he's a smart kid and he makes friends easily. He's not a baby anymore. If he needs any help he can always turn to Jo, Bobby, and Ellen for advice and safety.
It was John he was worried about. His father didn't take his mother's death well at all. He lost the love of his life at such a young age and was left with a snotty nosed four year old and a baby to raise by himself. Not that he really raised either of us, Dean thought bitterly.
He aimlessly reached for another cup of something. He didn't care what it was. Tonight was a night of celebration, after all. He didn't want to spend it with bitter thoughts of his dead beat father.
Dean lost count of how many beers he drank, as one beer turned to two, which turned to five, which turned to possibly ten. He's been to enough parties by his age that his alcohol tolerance was unbelievable.
At times it disgusted him how well he could handle his liquor. He didn't want to be like John if he could help it. It was bad enough that once he turned sixteen he had to take up his father's shift, or lack there of, at Bobby's auto shop.
Bobby Singer has been a friend of the family since before Dean was born. Bobby and John were best friends in high school. When John went into the Marines, Bobby opened his auto shop to support himself and his girlfriend, soon to be wife, at the time. Karen, like Mary, died at a young age. A lunatic broke into the house one night while John and Bobby were out at the bar having a guy's night out and stabbed her in the chest multiple times. They never did catch the killer.
Ellen Harvelle, Jo's mother, own the bar called The Roadhouse. It use to belong to Ellen and her husband, but after a hunting trip went wrong with Mr. Harvelle and John, there was nothing the doctors could do to stop the internal bleeding. Jo's father bled out.
Somewhere in the distance Dean heard a group of people shouting SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! He made his way blindly in the direction of the noise and found himself with a row of multiple shots of liquor ranging anywhere from whiskey to tequila. With three others around the table it was a fight to the finish. Shot after shot, different liquor after different liquor, and Dean came out victorious. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a cocky smile formed over his features. The small crowd that surrounded them cheered him on.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he spotted one of his fellow teammates, Gordon Walker. He was a tall, dark skinned man, kind of lanky looking. Though he wasn't muscular, he was toned, and he was one of the fastest sons of bitches the team had. Half their game victories wouldn't have been won if it weren't for Gordon.
"Hey, man! I heard the news! Congrats!" He all but yelled over the loud music and even louder crowd of teens. For a moment Dean thought he was talking about the Army, and he began to panic. Surely Jo didn't tell anyone about that. It was supposed to be between the two of them. Jo had a tendency to open her mouth a bit too far after one too many drinks.
But Dean had nothing to worry about, because next moment he knew, Michael, the star quarterback, came up to them and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, man. We heard! When were you going to tell us that you get to boss us around now?" he said with a smirk. "You weren't going to wait until our first practice to tell us you're the new captain, were you?"
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. As far as most of the football team was concerned, if it wasn't about football, alcohol, or girls, it wasn't of importance.
He had to say something, though, because Gordon and Michael were looking at them expectantly. So he lied. What else was he supposed to do? He was just now finding out himself.
"Yeah, guys. Sorry about that. I only just found out myself before I got here! But you can bet that I'm not going to go easy on you guys. If I can out drink you, I can definitely out play you as well." Ok, so maybe the alcohol was getting to him. Michael was at least three inches taller than him and definitely stronger, but he started slacking near the end of last season. Coach made him do extra laps after practice more times than anyone was willing to count.
Taking a quick glimpse at the clock on the stove, Dean realized he's been at the part for a few hours now and was not nearly drunk enough yet. He excused himself from his teammates and continued his way to the kitchen. Grabbing another cup of beer, he down it, refilled it, and downed it again.
He noticed a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter and grabbed it, making his way towards the couches in the living room. It's been a while since he last had some action, and what's the point of celebrating and getting drunk if you're not going to get any?
The couches was always his favorite place in the house to do his searching. It had a clear view of the middle of the living room, turned dance floor, as well as all entrances to the other rooms. Sitting down, he put the lip of the bottle up to his mouth and guzzled the burning liquid.
Over the past year or so he noticed how every girl started to look the same to him. One drunk chick looked the same as the ten next to her. They wore shirts cut so low their boobs were practically falling out by the end of the night. When he first started coming to these parties, he couldn't wait to see the girls fight over him. Fight to see who was the lucky winner to get laid by Dean "the God" Winchester that night. But soon it became the same drama each party. He couldn't even differentiate between the girls other than comparing the sizes of their breasts and asses. And even then, he would sleep with who ever won the match. Didn't matter what they looked like.
It was the same routine each time. The winner would sit on his lap, they'd make out, then they'd go upstairs and find an empty bedroom and he'd fuck them from behind. He never took notice of their eyes, or their lips, the color of their hair. Really anything they made them different. Never paid attention to how their lips felt because by the end of the night, it wouldn't have matter. The girl would be so out of it the kisses would be bruise worthy. It wasn't of desire. It was alcohol induced sexual frustration that caused them to attack his mouth. Why should he look them in the eyes while he fucked them if they didn't mean anything to him?
Out of all the ways Dean was like John, the one way he wasn't, and the one way he desperately wished he was, is the fact that John was able to fall in love in high school. He had the apple-pie life planned and ready to go and just waited for graduation to come and pass before putting his plans into action. And Dean would never have that. Dean would never find that someone. Not while in high school at least.
Taking another hefty guzzle from the bottle, he started looking around the room. Same people there as any other party. Jo wasn't in sight, not that he would try something on her. They were brother and sister for Christ sakes! No matter what the rumors said! She was probably off with her friends. Maybe she left already.
Looking at the time again, Dean realized how late it actually gotten. It was nearing midnight now. Body's started dropping to the floor in alcohol induced sleep. But there were still quite a few people up and around. Many of them were pushed up against the way playing tonsil-hockey with others. Girl on girl action. Guy on girl action. And every once in a while there will be those two lost souls that thought maybe, just maybe, this party would be better from the last one. That this party is where the minds of the jocks and cheerleaders would change and not attack the guys who made out with guys.
But none of the still awake people interested him. So he continued to guzzle down the whiskey.
His bladder made itself known once the bottle was empty. With surprising difficulty, he pushed himself off the couch. The clock read just after twelve thirty. The music was still obnoxiously loud as ever. He knew there was a bathroom somewhere on the main floor, but when he found it, it was locked. Cursing himself, because he really didn't want to have to walk up the stairs, he made his way up the steps, trying not to stumble and fall. He really must have drunk more than he thought.
It took him a few minutes to locate the bathroom, having to step over unconscious bodies while in his own alcohol induced state. Thanking who ever was looking after him as his bladder reminded him yet again the need for release, he turned the door handle, glad that it was unlocked, and even more relieved that it was empty.
After relieving himself and washing his hands, he opened the door. What he was not expecting was for a body to fall into him as the door opened, causing them both to crash to the ground.
Gaining his bearings, Dean looked up to find a pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. He barely heard the apologies the person was saying. He was lost. Lost in those blue eyes. Lost and never wanted to be found.
He didn't know how long he was staring. All of a sudden, there was a hand snapping it's fingers in front of his face and the bubble that formed around him bursted, as the loud music downstairs attacked his ear drums and he heard a low, gravely voice speaking in front of him.
"I said, are you ok?" And he realized with a start that the voice belonged to the person who fell through the door, the person with the bluer than blue eyes, the blue eyes that should seriously come with a warning label or else be considered illegal.
Slowly, his gaze traveled over the mystery persons' face. A strong jaw line, lightly dusted with stubble. Perfectly plushed, pink lips that looked softer and smoother than the finest silk, even though obviously cracked and dry. Straight nose, as if the Gods themselves carved it out of the purest marble. High cheek bones that defined the mans face. Sharp, yet softly shaped. Traveling up even farther, Dean noticed the mess of dark brown, nearly black hair that looked so silky smooth and begging for attention. And then he was back to those damn blue eyes again, with the slightest furrow of his brows.
"Uh..." he tried to speak and had to clear his throat before beginning again. "Yeah," he managed to get out. "Yeah, I'm ok. You just gave me a shock is all."
And then the man did something so unexpected that Dean couldn't help but jump. He started laughing. And Dean found himself joining in with the deep chuckle. Though on second thought, it shouldn't have been so surprising. They both must have been drinking a lot that night.
And sooner than Dean would care to admit, the man started getting up. And Dean would never admit out loud how adorable he thought this stranger was when he stumbled a few times in the process of trying to untangle their limbs. And if Dean didn't try to help him, well that was for him to know and worry about.
Finally, the dark haired stranger managed to get himself off the floor, and unfortunately off of Dean. He balanced himself against the door frame and held his hand out for Dean. Without thinking, Dean grabbed the hand too hard, and instead of being pulled up, he accidentally pulled the man down. He landed flat against Deans' chest and without warning the both of them broke out in laughter.
He had no idea how long it lasted. Hours, minutes, seconds. He just knew that once again he was lost in those should-be illegal blue eyes. Blue eyes that make the clearest oceans and seas green with envy.
When the laughter died down, they just smiled easily at each other. Laughter still evident on their faces, though no sound came out.
"I'm Castiel," the man said. And man if that voice didn't shoot straight to Deans' dick.
"Dean." he replied.
And they just stared at each other; easy, lazy smiles plastered to their faces. All sense of time forgotten to them. Until their smiles started to drop. And Dean wasn't sure if it was just him, but he could have sworn Castiels' eyes flickered to his lips then back up to his eyes.
It happened so suddenly, Dean wasn't sure who started it, but they were leaning further into each others personal space, until lips two sets of lips became one. Hands were moving of their own accord.
Deans' hands wound their way around Castiels' hips and back, gripping to his shirt as if it was a life line. Castiels' hands found their way in his hair. And if this wasn't the best damn kiss Dean has ever had.
Castiels' lips were as soft as Dean imagined. Soft, and pliable. Melting against his own. One of Deans' hands found their way into Castiels' hair, and yep, just as smooth as he thought. His hand tightened it's grip, ever so slightly. The moan that escaped Castiels' throat took booth men by surprise, and they froze. Green eyes opened to stare deep into blue.
As if they were meant to meet tonight, as if they already knew what the other man was thinking, they untangled themselves and scrambled to their feet. One of them closed and locked the door while the other frantically stripped. Hands were everywhere. Ripping off the unwanted clothing until they were both standing there, ass naked, in someone else's house, someone else's bathroom.
But they didn't care. They took all but a second to take in the view of the other man before mouths started attacking each other again.
Dean had Castiel leaned up against the sink. Hands ravishing the feeling of another's naked skin beneath them. His mouth slowly worked it's way from Castiel's mouth, to his jaw, then neck, and the feel of another mans' dick rubbing against his own was so intense that Dean doesn't know how he could have gone so long without experiencing this. He doesn't how he could have gone so long without experiencing Castiel's body.
And so Dean Winchester did something he never did during drunk sex.
Unlatching his lips from where they were forming a mark on Castiels' collarbone, where he was claiming Castiel as his own, he lifted his eyes and stared deep into the lust blown blue while he said, "Where the hell have you been all my life, Cas?"
Cas couldn't answer. He couldn't form words. His head thrown back as he moaned again, deeper than before, and rutted his hips against Deans', adding friction to their naked cocks.
Gripping Cas' thighs and lifting him up onto the sink, they communicated through their eyes as Dean was given permission to back away for a moment to dig through his jean pockets.
Moving himself back between Cas' willing legs, he lift his hand and didn't need to say anything as Cas started sucking on his fingers. The gasp that escaped his lips came as such a surprise, that a moan soon followed.
Never has Dean wanted someone as bad as he wanted Cas at this moment.
When Cas was sure Deans' fingers were nice and wet he let go, and Dean didn't hesitant to move them to Cas' hole. He slowly traced the tight ring of muscle, letting it get nice and wet, before ever so slowly pushing a single finger in, up to the first knuckle. Neither of them know who's gasp it was that rang through the air. It could have been both of them. But as Dean pushed his finger in farther, his lips found Cas' again and he swallowed the next sounds the beautiful throat was releasing.
Slowly Dean worked his finger in and out, stretching Cas' tight hole enough until he could fit a second one in. Again, he started with the first knuckle, and then slowly maneuver his fingers. Adding a third finger, he started scissoring Cas, stretching him as much as he could.
When he removed his fingers, Cas let out a soft involuntary whimper.
"Shh... I got you, baby," Dean whispered against his lips, and blindly ripped the condom open, pushing it down his aching cock.
Spitting on his hand, he lubed the condom covered member as much as he could, before rubbing it against Cas' hole. Slowly, he pushed his cock into Cas, burying his face into the other mans' neck as a hiss escaped him.
When he was fully in, he stopped, letting Cas adjust to the difference in size, before slowly rocking his hips back and forth.
"God, Cas! So hot. So fucking tight for me."
"Yes! Dean. Fuck! Harder!"
He didn't need any more persuasion. What started off as a slow rocking quickly turned into a full on attack on Cas' hole. At some point Dean grabbed one of Cas' legs, pulling it over his shoulder, causing him to pound deeper into the smaller mans body. Shifting the position just that much that every thrust in he was hitting Cas' prostate. And every thrust he was gifted with the sound of Cas' screams ripping out of his throat.
"YES! FUCK! JUST LIKE THAT, DEAN! FUCK!"
He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, and with all the power he could muster, he opened his eyes and looked at Cas' face. Watched as he slowly caused Cas to come undone beneath him.
"Cas. Open your eyes. Open your eyes for me. I wanna stare into those beautiful blue orbs while you come undone. Come on, baby. Open your eyes for me."
And Cas did. As their eyes locked, they both came, blue staring into green. Cas' come painting their exposed stomachs.
Dean collapse on top of Cas' body. It wasn't until after they both caught their breath and shared a slow, passionate kiss that Dean realized, not only was that the first time he talked during sex, but that was the first time he said someone's name and looked at them.
And it was with a guy.
With a start, Dean backed away, his now soft cock sliding out of Cas' hole with a soft pop. He pulled the spent condom off and tied it before throwing it away in the trash, then hastily got dressed. He tried his best to block out the sounds of Cas' concerned voice as he pulled his shoes on, determinedly looking anywhere but at the naked man before him. And as he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom, he wishes he could say he didn't see the hurt look that crossed Castiels' face, or the tears slowly making their way down his cheeks.
As he walked out the house and made his way home, he wishes he could say he didn't hear Cas' voice running through his head, both the sex driven and the concern, and he wishes he didn't see his face every time he closed his eyes. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw lust blown blue eyes switching with the hurt and betrayed tear filled look that was thrown his way as he left him, spent on some strangers bathroom sink.
And he wishes, above all else, that he didn't just have the best God damn sex of his life!
Notes
Again, this chapter is not beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes.
A bit of a warning, there is smut in this chapter. I've never written it before so if it's completely horrible, I apologize. Let me know what you guys think. Any criticism is better than none.
