Castiel spent all that weekend helping Dean recover, which meant helping him do everything – including walking around campus. To the cafeteria, to the lake to sit and chill out, to the bathroom… which was much more awkward than it sounds. He swore he saw nothing... even if he may have. But it was hard for Dean to be horny when he was so tired. He could hardly even dress on his own, which they both knew Cas was enjoying. He'd slip Dean's shirt over his head and the lean ripples of muscle on his chest would magnetize his hands and his eyes, and they would snog until they realized they were going to be late for dinner. Or they would get his jeans off and Cas could climb onto Dean's lap and tease him until time drew them apart. With no food in the room, meals were their only motivation to leave. They spent every morning draped across each other for hours, every day cuddling somewhere under a tree or behind the dorm building in the sun out of sight, and every evening in Dean's bed… putting color back in Dean's cheeks.
Soft making out brought fever back into Dean's body. He got stronger by the day, from being able to stand on his own just to cross the room and grab Cas, to finally able to pull Cas on top of him Sunday night. That had been the closest they'd gotten to second base. If Cas hadn't pointed out that Dean was supposed to avoid exertion, they might have damaged him beyond recognition.
They slept separately, for most of the time, until Cas slid into Dean's bed early in the morning and they lay together. Both knew this was their only time to indulge in each other's company; work and school were going to want them back, and they didn't want to let go. Long after they'd finished making out Sunday night, the two of them lay in bed together, hands all over each other, until it was too late to do so anymore. Then Cas slipped back to his messy cot and they both drifted to sleep ruefully.
All weekend, Dean's favorite thing to do was just watch Castiel move – cleaning up the room, drawing him, walking beside him - for at least a few minutes, with this absent smile on his face, before pulling him in and pushing aside his sketchbook or whatever he was holding, and hug him tightly and whisper, "I love you, God I love you," over and over in his ear, in his husky, low tone. Cas could do nothing but melt into him and blush and stammer affectionate protests and other incoherent things when he did this, still unable to vocalize his feelings the way he wanted to.
When Monday morning rolled around, Dean woke halfway back to his full strength. He managed to do everything on his own at half normal speed, and even got to class on time. Castiel hated to see him go but loved watching him leave. Time to get back to the real world, unfortunately. He grabbed his own backpack and set out into the cloudy morning, working feverishly through all his classes to get back to Dean at the end of the day.
Dean, on the other hand, day dreamed through most of his classes. Mostly about what it would be like if they ever got into it, or about Castiel playing nurse. He hardly realized the girls in the class fawning over him. Their 'I missed you!' and 'where were you?' and 'if there's any way I can help…' comments went right over his head. Eventually they gave up. After all, all he could think of was those flawless blue orbs filled with lust and a head of dark sex hair and a bare body spread out on his sheets, pining for him.
Cas had finished all the homework he'd missed last week by the time Dean got out of class. He was organizing his work schedule in his planner when the tired cowboy pushed through the door with a smile on his face. Looking up, Castiel rose, putting aside his things. "How your first day back go?"
Dean dropped his backpack and went right up to him, hands on his waist, toe to toe and body to body. "It went nice and quick," he pushed his nose against Castiel's throat and kissed it, breathing him in. His stubble pricked along his exposed skin.
The knees of his victim knocked together weakly. Castiel put his hands on Dean's chest and took a shaky breath, eyes sliding shut. The pleasure he got from that touch rushed the blood from his cheeks to his groin, and he couldn't break from Dean's iron grip before his boner pressed against his jeans. Dean chuckled into his ear and shifted his hips to put pressure on it, making Cas shudder and buck back, hungry for more. Cas's chin knocked gently against Dean's temple.
Voices down the hall made them both turn. Dean had left the door wide open. He pulled away with amazing reflexes to push it shut before the guys having an argument on their way to their dorm spotted them - or Cas's tent for that matter.
When it clicked into the locked position he turned back. His eyes seemed to rove, enjoying the exposed look Castiel had, his hands hovering by his waist. Those blue orbs weren't focused on his pants, though, they were hooded, locked onto green orbs, drawing Dean back. Obediently the other boy went to him. Taking him by the waist again he sank a kiss. He began to place several on Castiel's lips, one right after the other, and Cas took the handsome face in his hands and returned every one with a growing ferocity. Dean reached a nervous but eager hand between them and palmed Cas's boner, making him gasp. "Geez," Dean whispered against his mouth teasingly. "How long has it been since you got laid?" Cas went to answer snarkily, and Dean kneaded his dick through his jeans, turning his words into moans. The sound had Dean struggling to control his own horniness. Cas melted against him, pushing himself into Dean's touch with raunchy hips. "Damn that's hot." Dean said gruffly.
"Dean," Cas moaned softly, "I can't-" Another moan erupted from his lips as Dean rubbed him nice and hard, and he gave up and gave in, letting himself be pushed to his own bed this time. His neck arched. He sank onto his back on the comforter, heart thudding, blood pumping. His eyes dilated. It had been so long. He had longed for him, for this, since they met. This subtlety was something he clung to – this over-the-jeans formality. The temptation to pull himself out of his jeans was overwhelming, but he knew he was very likely to plunge into a panic attack, with memories of Martius shattering this perfect moment, if he did. Besides, baby steps. Dean wanted him, but scaring him off was still possible.
Dean lowered himself onto his side adjacent to him with a mischievous glint to his eyes. "Pop your belt," he ordered, and Castiel obeyed, nimble fingers unbuckling his belt. As it drew apart Dean pushed Castiel's legs apart and his hand ran the length of his amazing thigh, testing its mass with a squeeze here and there, and drawing up to his hardening boner with a slow rub. He palmed Cas's balls briefly to see the submission on his face before he began to rub methodically at his boner, working it over, making Cas buck and groan in hungry lust. His dick felt like concrete beneath Dean's touch. Leaning over him, Dean caught his lips and began to occupy those so he could feel the moans reverberate in Cas's mouth, hand working steadily. His name echoed out of Cas's throat so many times that he began to lose count and lose his control. His own boner shoved angrily at the zipped of his jeans and into Cas's side, who reached down and began to return the gesture.
Castiel groaned and pulled back from the kiss, panting. "Dean, I can't hold out," he said with a breathless roughness to his voice, jagged from pleasure.
"Can I finish you?" Dean asked seriously, his own voice shaking.
A beat of pause to catch his fleeting breath. "Please," Castiel moaned, unable to deny himself the rush of orgasm at his peak. Dean obliged, running eager hands along the boy's dick, jean-burn on his hands by the time Cas's back arched and his mouth opened in a silent cry. Pleasure flooded his body, rainbows of colored stars exploding behind his eyes as the inside of his underwear and jeans were christened. His dick throbbed with knee-knocking pleasure at finally having someone else get him off. His whole body felt the orgasm like a wrecking ball into his wall of stress, shattering it and breaking right through, draining him of all his tension and nerves. It was a freeing feeling – like being cut loose from bondage. Dean worked him until he was dry and quivering and when Cas came to, head lolling to see Dean gazing at him with love in his eyes, he knew then that he was it. He was the one.
He didn't look afraid, or uneasy, or even at odds in the smallest way. He looked romantic; happy, and in love. Boundlessly so. As if he'd just… well, given his boyfriend his first not-self-mandated orgasm in a year and a half. Dean pushed his hands under Cas's shirt and rubbed his chest and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He kissed his forehead and his lips with a tenderness that made Cas want to break down all over again. Perfect. Dean was perfect. The one he'd been waiting for, while he was telling himself that dying was not the answer – that one day, someone would really want him, really need him... and really love him.
He lay there a long time beside Dean, letting the boy rub him with his boner, glad just to be able to feel this comfortable and this satisfied at the same time. They kissed lazily. Then the time came back into play. He was going to be late for his first day of work. After having pushed back last week's appointment, Cas was eager to impress his boss in order to secure his position. Dean pulled him up and turned away while he changed, the other male wiggling into clean underwear and jeans, and when he turned back he got arms wrapped around his neck and a sloppy wet kiss. "I love you," Cas said, drawn back a breath just to look into Dean's eyes. His determined expression was so solid, so unshakable, that Dean felt struck in the heart. "I'm sorry it took so long."
"Jesus, Cas," Dean whispered, gripping his waist with warm hands. "I don't think I can let you leave now." He'd been waiting for it, patiently, knowing Cas had trust issues with his lovers – hearing it now was like the cherry on top of the fudge Sunday.
"I have to go," Castiel said sadly. "I'm sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can, I swear." They kissed deeply, passionately, and Cas rubbed against Dean. "Keep that. I'll be back for it." He said, referring to the rigid snake in his pants. Then he loaded up his pockets with everything he would need, tied on his sneakers, grabbed his trench coat, and went to the door. Dean stood in the middle of the room watching him with soft eyes. Castiel returned his gaze for a few beats before flashing him a shy smile. Then, opening the door, he vanished into the night.
Sorry it took so long for some smut. There will be plenty more. Please add reviews wherever you like.