Horror High: Chapter Six

[vanimadin]

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes:  I am getting some feedback that Chuck is OOC and I am AWARE he is OOC, I was going for a Chuck that is somewhere between prophet!Chuck and initial nice!God!Chuck because Cas needed a father that wasn’t a) a hopeless mess of a drunk or b) a megalomaniacal child having a constant temper tantrum. :D

Pretty much just fluff and smut in this chapter, not much else. New chapter next Thursday or Friday, depending on my schedule! Can also be read over on AO3!

HORROR HIGH
Chapter Six
By Senashenta

The next day after school, instead of Dean walking Cas home, Cas walked with him back to the motel. They needed to upload the cocoon photos they had taken the day before to Sam’s laptop, and this way they could spend a little more time together before Cas had to head home. He called his father to let him know he was at ‘Dean’s place’ and would be home in time for dinner.

He and Dean, admittedly, made out a little before Sam got home from school, but no one was surprised by that fact. This time the door was properly locked behind them, so Sam had to knock, which meant he at least didn’t walk in on them like last time. It could have been worse.

Once Sam was there (and Cas and Dean had fixed their clothes), they wasted no time in uploading the photos, and then all settled in for a research session while Sam went over the pictures with a fine-toothed comb.

Eventually, Sam was laying on one of the beds, going through a pile of old books, while Cas and Dean sat at the kitchenette table, Cas also going through books and Dean reading articles on Sam’s laptop. Cas had left his own laptop at home, mostly because he didn’t want to chance taking it to school with him and having it broken—or stolen.

An hour and a half in, Dean disappeared from the room and came back with his arms full of cans of soda, bags of chips and chocolate bars—he had raided the vending machines in the motel lobby. They all helped themselves and continued to work, munching away quietly.

When it got close to time for him to be leaving, though, Cas’s attention began to pull away from the book currently in front of him and toward Dean because—

“Hey, Dean?” His voice came out hesitant, but Dean didn’t notice, too focused on the article he was reading on Sam’s laptop.

“Yeah?”

“My Father is going to be out of town this weekend. He has a seminar in Maine. Do you want to come over after school tomorrow?”

“Oh, sure.” Still distracted.

Over on the bed Sam faceplanted into his book and muttered, “oh my God,” under his breath.

Cas tried again, this time reaching to take hold of Dean’s arm. When Dean finally looked up, he cleared his throat and offered, “do you want to come over for the night?”

This time Dean got it. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he coughed, looked down, then looked back up and adjusted himself in his seat. “Yeah, definitely.” He managed, voice just a touch strained.

“Gross.” Sam protested.

“Watch it, brat.” Dean warned, ignoring the flush of red that was tinting the tips of his ears.

Cas squeezed his arm with a little smile and then returned to his own research. “We can order pizza.”

“Yeah ‘cause pizza’s what I’m gonna be worried about.” Dean muttered, making both Cas and Sam snort.

It was only a short time later that Cas had to excuse himself. It was a long walk home and he had promised his father he would be there in time for dinner. So, he packed up his things and headed for the door—only for Dean to stop him on the threshold and pull him into a kiss.

Sam grumbled, but Cas smiled against Dean’s lips and angled his head for another one—longer and deeper—before stepping back and giving the older teen a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” There was just a touch of nervousness in Dean’s voice.

Cas found it downright adorable.

–
–

[Cherry, I think. Why?]

Cas was fully aware that Dean had a thing for pie, and that night, while sitting in his room working on his homework, he had texted Sam to ask what his brother’s favorite kind of pie was. Sam seemed baffled by the question. Cas just responded:

[I want to make a pie for him. For tomorrow night.]

There was a long pause before Sam replied to that, seeming to understand now:

[OH. I get it. In that case, definitely cherry, but with chili peppers.]

Cas made a little confused noise to himself: [Chili peppers?] He questioned. He didn’t know much about cooking or baking, but that sounded… odd. Still, he trusted Sam, so he just waited for the younger boy’s answer:

[Yeah, like the Red Hot Cherry Peppers? It’s a hot-and-sweet thing they do with desserts sometimes. Dean loves it.]

Cas supposed that made sense. He knew people put strange food combinations together all the time, even if he didn’t understand it himself:

[Okay. Thank you, Sam.]

Now, Cas was of course not particularly known for the culinary skills. He had told that to Dean before on more than one occasion, and it was true, that was why he packed the same sandwiches for them every day for lunch at school. But he really wanted to at least try to do this for his boyfriend, so he grabbed his wallet, shoved it in his pocket, and headed downstairs.

“Where are you going? It’s getting late.” Chuck called from the living room when he saw Cas pulling on his shoes.

“To the grocery store.” Cas replied, “I’m going to bake a pie.”

Chuck nearly spit his coffee. He winced visibly (Cas couldn’t blame him), but in the end didn’t protest, instead just offering, “okay, good luck with that!”

–
–

After he got back from the store, Cas spent a good portion of the night attempting to bake a pie with minimal success (he set the smoke alarm off three times), and, after his final product was set to cool on the counter, locked up in his room doing research. The kind of research that he definitely didn’t want his father walking in on. The kind of research where he huddled in his bed with his laptop volume way down and his earphones in anyway, just in case.

Because. He had never done this before, and if things went the way he thought they were going to the next night, he wanted to know what he was in for. As much as he had tried to tell his father that he’d already learned everything from health class, that had been a blatant lie—because school health class only covered straight intercourse, and that was not what this was going to be. Like at all.

He had a general idea what was involved in sex between two men but didn’t know the details—or hadn’t. Now he did, and he understood why his father had shoved a tube of lubricant at him a couple days before. It made logical sense. It didn’t make it any less mortifying.

But even though all his research was, yes, mortifying, and at times confusing, it didn’t make him want it any less, especially since it would be with Dean. There was something about the thought of being that close with Dean—physically, emotionally—that made his stomach squirmy in a pleasant sort of way. Made him smile to himself, even though he was the only one in the room.

Assuming Dean wanted to, of course, which, judging from what had gone on between them so far, seemed a given, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, could he? Cas would just have to wait and see.

Sufficed to say that he didn’t get much sleep that night, and stumbled through his morning routine when his alarm jerked him awake at seven. He had fallen asleep with his laptop in his bed, his earphones still in from his forbidden and embarrassing Internet searches.

At least with little sleep there had been little time for nightmares, though he had still dreamt something vague about absorbing utter darkness into himself and then melting away into nothingness in a river. It had actually been one of his less distressing dreams, all things considered.

When he managed to get showered and dressed and make it downstairs, his father took one look at him and shoved a cup of coffee in his direction. He didn’t comment on the ‘pie’ on the counter. Cas downed the coffee like he’d been lost in the desert, and it was the first liquid he’d seen in a month.

By the time he had to actually leave for school he was feeling mildly more awake, and Chuck wished him a good day of classes and said goodbye, told him to behave and asked him to please not burn the house down—he would be leaving town while Cas was still in class.

The walk to school was long and arduous, and when he arrived at Caspar, Cas still felt partly asleep, but managed to locate Dean where he was waiting for him outside the building, regardless. He all but collapsed into the older boy’s chest, his head coming down against Dean’s shoulder. He yawned hugely.

“You look rough.” Dean observed even as he wrapped Cas up in his arms and tilted his head to kiss by his temple lightly. “Long night?”

“So long.” Cas agreed, stifling another yawn into Dean’s shoulder. He pushed back enough to look up at Dean, “I’ll be fine, I just have to wake up.”

Dean hesitated, then, “you sure you want me to come over tonight?”

But Cas shook his head immediately. He leaned in for a kiss. “I’m sure. Definitely.” Especially after all his preparation the night before. Between that and his father being out of town, it would be a waste. “I just need some caffeine.” Then, after a pause, “some more caffeine. I already had coffee.”

“Mm, I can taste it.” Dean smiled at him and kissed him gently again. “As long as you’re sure, Cas.”

Cas hummed and just leaned back against Dean again. “I’m sure, Dean.”

“Okay. Good. Because I already gave Sammy the whole lecture on Motel Safety since he’s going to be on his own overnight.”

A soft chuckle. “I’m sure he loved that.”

“Loved is a strong word.”

Another quiet laugh. Cas brought one hand up to pat against Dean’s chest, amused. For the first time in days, he wasn’t hearing the whispers that were surely going on around them. “Sam will be fine. He’s capable.”

“He’s thirteen.”

“And he was raised by you and your Dad, right? So, he’ll be okay.”

“I guess.” Dean allowed.

It was hard for him to think of Sam as anything other than a little kid, because he had practically raised him himself. Their dad had been there, sure, off-and-on, but he had been absent as much as he had been around, Dean had been the constant in Sam’s life. But realistically, Cas was right: Sam was growing up. He wouldn’t die just from spending one night in the motel by himself. Dean just didn’t like to admit it.

“If he rats me out to Dad about all this, I swear I’ll kill him myself.”

Cas gave a little snort and brought one hand up to run his fingers through Dean’s hair, gentle reassurance even as he continued to rest his head on the older teen’s shoulder. “You will not.” He accused softly, breath warm at the crook of Dean’s neck, “you live for Sam.”

But Dean shook his head and tightened his arms around Cas slightly. “Not anymore.”

Cas’s fingers paused in Dean’s hair, then curled, tugging gently just once. He swallowed. “Dean, I—”

And then the first bell rang.

Cas jolted a little—and then sighed and pulled away from Dean, giving him a small smile. “You’re coming home with me straight after school?”

Dean reluctantly let him go, arms falling back to his sides, though he leaned close for one more kiss. “Yeah.”

Cas returned the kiss but didn’t deepen it, instead easing back to head inside. “See you at lunch, Dean.”

Then he ducked away and hurried into the building, leaving Dean to follow at a much more reluctant pace.

–
–

Lunch was spent quietly that day, the two of them just eating and sitting together, mostly in silence. Cas couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Dean was coming home with him—really coming home with him. And as much as he wanted it, there was a little ball of nervousness in his stomach, too. He wasn’t entirely sure why.

Dean seemed to be contemplating something himself, but whatever it was he didn’t share—and Cas didn’t ask. He never pushed Dean too hard. He knew Dean had his secrets, and sometimes it was better to let him keep them. Everyone was entitled to their own private thoughts, after all.

After school, Cas got out to the front of the building first, which was of course the typical way things went, and spent a few minutes fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt while he waited for Dean, perking when the other boy emerged from the school and headed over to where he was sitting.

“Up you come,” Dean reached down to take his hand and haul him to his feet, and Cas allowed it with a laugh. “How was your afternoon?”

“It was good. No cocoons in gym. Charlie says hi.”

“I don’t even know Charlie.”

“But she knows you.” Cas brushed off the back of his jeans with his free hand, his other hand still holding onto Dean’s. He picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder, then tugged at Dean’s hand gently. “Let’s go.”

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as they stepped off school property and turned right. “You don’t look as rough as you did this morning.”

“Mm,” Cas agreed, adjusting his backpack, and then looking sideways at Dean, “I feel better. Just had trouble waking up this morning. Long night on the laptop.”

Dean smirked a little. “I never would have figured you as one for porn, Cas.”

Cas flushed red. “Dean!”

Dean laughed and squeezed his hand. “I’m kidding!” And then, “homework, right? Sam sometimes spends all night working on homework too. Then he drinks way too much coffee for a kid his age. What class?”

“Uh,” Cas was still bright red, but to his credit he shrugged and lied, “ancient civ. I had and essay due today and I’d, um, really procrastinated over it. I had to cram most of it in last night.”

“’Procrastinated’?”

“You are very distracting, Dean.”

A grin and Dean leaned over to kiss by his ear. “You’re still blushing. It’s adorable. I’m sorry.”

Cas grumbled under his breath but didn’t have anything to say in response to that. He just turned his eyes to the ground, watching his feet as he walked and willing the blushing to go away. That was embarrassing.

“You mad at me?”

“…no. Of course not. Just… embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. It’s cute.”

“Saying that will not make the blushing stop, Dean.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

When they got to Cas’s house, the door was predictably locked, and Cas dug his key out to let them in. Once inside with the door closed behind them, they paused in the entryway to take their shoes off—his father may not have been home, but No Shoes In The House was still the rule—and Cas set his backpack on the little bench by the door. He would take it upstairs later. Maybe.

Then he turned to look at Dean, hesitated, and finally informed him, “I made you a pie. For tonight. To go with the pizza.”

Dean started to perk—and then stopped. “Wait, you made a pie?”

Cas nodded.

This was worrying for a few reasons, but mostly because they had established early on that Cas could not cook. He had once said he could burn water. Dean hesitated, probably too long, and then finally said; “sure, let’s have a look at it!” With as much false hope and enthusiasm as a person could possibly convey. Cas didn’t buy it for a second, but also didn’t fault him for it, either.

So, they made their way to the kitchen, where… something, certainly not a pie, was waiting on the middle island, practically radiating malevolence. It was lopsided for sure, but one half was burnt black while the other half was somehow still practically raw. Frankly, Dean wondered if he should be Hunting it or something. He was pretty sure if you poked it, the thing would utter the word “eeeeevil.”

Cas just looked down on it and deadpanned, “nothing went according to plan, Dean. I suspect I am not good at baking pies.” Then he looked back up at Dean and added, “you don’t have to eat it. I just wanted you to know I tried.”

Oh good. Dean nodded and questioned with morbid curiosity, “what flavor is it?”

“Cherry,” Okay, a respectable flavor at leas— “with chili peppers.”

Dean balked. “I’m sorry, come again?”

“You know, like the Red Hot Cherry Peppers.” Cas explained, as if the words coming out of his mouth made perfect sense, “Sam said cherry was your favorite, and that cherry goes with spice like the Red Hot Cherry Peppers and—and you are looking at me like I’m saying something stupid. I’m saying something stupid, aren’t I?”

Sam. Of course. Dean palmed over his face and muttered “that little shit” before returning his attention to Cas, reaching to pull him closer and leaning in to kiss him gently. “Cas, my brother was screwing with you. And me. This is one hundred percent a prank. No one eats cherry pie with chilis. And it’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers, they’re a band. Like music, not like pie.”

Cas frowned. “Apparently Sam can also be a jerk sometimes.”

Dean actually laughed at that, grinning at his boyfriend before going in for another kiss. “That’s what brothers are for.”

Cas hummed against his lips and decided, “next time I’ll just buy a pie.”

Another grin. “That sounds like a good plan. Also, I’m going to make you an essential music playlist, your lack of music knowledge is just sad.”

“If you must.”

“Oh, I must.”

–
–

They ordered pizza for dinner (pepperoni, sausage, bacon and extra cheese—no vegetables for Dean, it seemed, but that was fine with Cas, he actually found it amusing) and took it to the living room, taking over the coffee table with the box and a couple of cans of soda, and then flicking through Netflix, discussing what to watch for several long minutes until Dean decided on a movie Cas probably had no interest in. The younger teen didn’t mind, though, he was more interested in Dean anyway.

So, they ate their pizza sitting side by side in front of the television, Dean explaining the movie to Cas along the way because the other boy was (predictably) lost right from the start.

Once they were done eating, they sprawled out over the rest of the couch, Cas leaning into one corner and Dean stretched out on his back, his head in Cas’s lap and a little, content smile on his face while Cas stroked his fingers through Dean’s hair, just toying with the soft strands gently.

Neither of them was really watching the movie anymore. Dean’s eyes were closed over and Cas was looking down at him, not at the TV, but the film continued to play in the background, regardless.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas asked finally, tugging gently at a strand of his hair.

Dean hummed out a happy noise. “Yeah?”

“You should be kissing me.”

“Oh, thank God,” Green eyes blinked open again and Dean began to sit up, “I was going crazy trying not to touch you over here!”

Over here was literally in his lap, but Cas got the idea anyway, especially when Dean made a point of immediately dragging him over and maneuvering Cas into his lap so that Cas was straddling him, then pulling him into a kiss.

The next while was spent continuing to ignore the movie entirely, making out heavily, hands wandering, hips grinding and little, nonsensical murmurs between kisses until Dean began trailing them down Cas’s jawline and neck, biting gently, and Cas muttered breathlessly, “my Father says I have to watch out for you. You’re just another horny teenage boy, essentially.”

Dean grinned against the crook of his neck. “And what do you think?”

“I think… I think we’re both teenage boys.” Cas swallowed and licked his lips, then sat back a little and lifted a hand to tug at Dean’s shirt lightly; “and I think we should go upstairs.”

Dean paused at that before leaning in to kiss Cas again, just gently this time. “You sure about that, Cas?”

Sliding his hand up to grip in Dean’s hair, Cas bit his lip and rocked his hips firmly into the older boy’s, making it more than obvious how hard he was, as if it hadn’t been already. He nodded, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sure.”

“Oh shit—” Dean swore, his own hips bucking upward in response, and panted softly, drawing Cas into another series of kisses, hot, deep, and hungry, “you’re incredible, do you know that?”

Cas laughed breathlessly and teased, “you’re just saying that because you want to get in my pants. As they say.”

But Dean shook his head. He bumped their foreheads together again and gave him another kiss, this time just brief and warm. “No. You’re incredible.”

Surprise. A blink. Cas tilted his head curiously, “but why? I’m not…” Trailing off, he glanced down, eyes shifting back-and-forth as he considered his words; “…special. I’ve never been special.”

“You are special, though.” Dean sighed, tightening his arms around Cas to pull the other boy even closer, and tilted his head to press soft kisses along his jaw back to his ear; “so don’t be stupid, you know I adore you.”

“I—” Cas leaned into the kisses, blue eyes closing over. “Same. But about you.”

Dean smiled against his skin. “Mm, I know.” Nipping by his jaw lightly, he sat back to give Cas another proper kiss. “Still want to go upstairs?”

“Definitely.” No hesitation. Cas smiled and began disentangling himself from the other boy so he could climb out of his lap and stand, “I did research. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Dean followed him up, brushing at his clothes once he was standing—but then stopped. “Wait, research?”

“Well yeah.” Cas shrugged, flushing just a little as he reached for Dean’s hand and then headed for the stairs, “it’s what I was actually doing last night, not homework. I’ve never done this before, so I thought I should know what I’m in for.”

“Oh.” Dean managed weakly. “So, you’ve really never…?”

A pause in Cas’s steps. He glanced back over his shoulder. “No.”

“Not even with girls?” He had known that he was Cas’s first boyfriend, but still.

“No… why? Does that matter?”

Dean’s face was getting progressively redder and redder. Cas just tugged at his hand to get him walking again. “Uh, what kind of research did you do?” He asked finally, voice just a touch higher than normal.

Another shrug as they climbed the stairs. “Just all kinds of things. Articles and videos and stuff. Most of it made sense. There was one video with a babysitter and a pizza man that was really… baffling, though.” (Most of the videos hadn’t been in any way logical, if he was being honest with himself.)

That made Dean laugh again, though. “I think I’ve seen that one.” He joked weakly—and then tugged Cas to a stop just outside his bedroom door. “Cas, I—” He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Are you—I mean, I know you said you were sure, but are you sure-sure?I don’t—it’s just—shit, man, I want this so bad, but if you’ve never…” Green eyes met Cas’s searchingly, “I just really don’t want to screw this up, that’s all.”

Cas just looked at him, ignoring the faint redness in his own face. “Are you nervous because I’m a virgin?” Dean sputtered an affirmative, and Cas gave a little half-smile, “but you’ve never slept with another boy either, right?” Another somewhat squawked agreeing noise; “so aren’t we in the same boat?” He squeezed Dean’s hand gently and offered; “besides, you… you won’t mess it up. I don’t think you could. And even if you did, how would I know? Anyway… I want it to be you, for my first time. Okay?”

Dean looked at him in astonishment. “Why—why do you want it to be me?”

“Because I—” This time Cas hesitated, but only briefly before turning around to face Dean properly. He sighed and lifted both hands to rest against Dean’s chest, feeling how hard his heart was beating under his palms. “Because you care. Because you can be so gentle when you want to be. You always are with me, anyway.” Glancing down, he shrugged one shoulder and added, “because I’m very seriously falling in love with you.”

And oh. Dean’s eyes widened and he paused to gather his suddenly swirling thoughts, swallowing and licking his lips before wrapping his arms around Cas and pulling him closer, tilting his head to press a kiss against his forehead. “You know how I feel about you, Cas. You’re the most important person in my life, along with Dad and Sam, and I…” He trailed off then, ducking to nuzzle into Cas’s neck warmly. “Cas, I…”

Cas brought one hand up to run his fingers through Dean’s hair and smiled fondly. “I understand.” Then, a little worried that he might have pushed Dean too far already, he murmured, “do you not want to have sex tonight, Dean? We could just finish the movie and cuddle. Make out some more. That would be nice, too.”

But as much as Dean was worried about screwing things up, he still really did want to go through with this—he did suffer terribly from being a Teenage Boy, it was true—and he laughed against Cas’s neck at the very idea of waltzing back downstairs and just going back to the movie like nothing had happened.

“Not a chance.” He grinned and reached to open the door to Cas’s bedroom, bumping it open and backing into the room, tugging Cas with him. Cas went along willingly, closing the door behind them—and then Dean crowded him back into the closed door, pressing close and drawing him into a series of heated, wanting kisses.

Cas uttered a muffled pleased noise, hands coming up to hold at either side of Dean’s neck. He returned Dean’s kisses in kind, holding him close even as Dean’s hands rubbed at his hips before sliding up his sides, under his shirt and the older boy slid a knee between his legs to grind against him.

“Oh, God,” Cas broke off with a gasp to let his head fall back against the door and Dean dove in to trail messy kisses along the curve of his throat, his hands still under Cas’s shirt and rubbing hotly along his skin. “Dean…”

“Mmh.” Was Dean’s response. He slid his hands around to Cas’s back, still under his shirt, and pulled him away from the door and over toward the bed, kissing along his neck the entire time.

Once they were across the room they basically tumbled into the bed, Dean settling over Cas easily, comfortably, and Cas reaching up to pull the older boy down for more kisses even as Dean pulled at Cas’s shirt, pushing it up as far as he could without the younger teen’s cooperation. Then he just made a soft frustrated noise against Cas’s lips, almost pouting.

Cas laughed breathlessly and pushed Dean back a bit, then pulled his shirt off and tossed it away. That was followed by bringing his hands up to grab at the front of Dean’s shirt. “Yours, too.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, sitting back and pulling off the long-sleeved flannel shirt he was wearing, discarding it before grabbing at the back of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. It was pitched somewhere on the floor, too.

Cas just looked up at his boyfriend for a moment, swallowing thickly. Dean was already reaching to undo Cas’s jeans, and suddenly this was very real. Cas took a shaky breath but lifted his hips up when Dean started tugging his jeans down, allowing them to be pulled away and discarded easily.

“Dean…”

Something in his voice made Dean freeze, halfway to having his own jeans undone. “Cas?” He let go of his zipper and carefully lowered himself down, this time next to Cas, pressed into his side, leaning to kiss him gently. “Is this still okay?”

“I—” It wasn’t that he was having second thoughts, he still wanted this, he just… “I think I just—realized. That this is actually happening.” Then a short pause and he looked sideways at Dean to tell him, “sorry, it’s kind of a lot.”

Dean gave a relieved sigh and relaxed, tipping his head to kiss by Cas’s jaw. “You still want to?”

“Mm.” Cas hummed at the kiss and closed his eyes for just a moment before opening them again, giving Dean a smile. “I really do.”

“You sure?”

“Dean.”

“Just checking.” Dean defended and then added softly, “I really don’t want to screw this up, Cas. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And I appreciate that, but still.” Cas lifted a hand up to card his fingers through Dean’s hair, tugging gently, and ordered, “take your pants off, Dean.”

A grin from the older boy. “I can do that.”

Dean climbed out of the bed long enough to shuck out of his jeans and boxers before clambering back onto the mattress, easing up against Cas’s side again. Cas swallowed a little again—and leaned in for a kiss, even as he reached with one hand to palm at Dean’s cock. Dean groaned against his mouth, muffled against his lips, and rocked his hips into Cas’s hand lightly.

But that wasn’t what the goal was, here, no matter how much they both enjoyed it. And it seemed unfair that Dean was stripped completely bare while Cas was still wearing his boxers… so Cas let go of Dean’s dick, placated him with another little kiss, then quickly stripped his own boxers off and pitched them out of the way.

Dean propped himself up on one arm to lean over Cas and ducked in for another kiss. “God, you’re gorgeous.” His free hand was wandering now, sliding hotly across Cas’s skin, along his chest and down to his abdomen—then lower.

Cas just whined at the compliment and arched into Dean’s touches, bringing one hand up to grab at the side of Dean’s neck and pull him closer again. “Dean.”

“I’m allowed to think you’re beautiful,” He was told firmly, Dean ducking to kiss down his neck to his chest, nipping there lightly, licking over one nipple. His hand closed around Cas’s cock and Cas bucked into it with a gasp. “Do you have condoms, Cas? Please tell me you have condoms.”

Blue eyes opened and he looked at Dean, gave him a little smile. “Yes.” Batting Dean’s hand away from his cock gently, he scooted over to reach into the bedside table drawer, pulling out the box of condoms and the tube of lubricant that his father had given him earlier. Then he returned to his place, tugging Dean down on top of himself again and holding the box of condoms up. “My… Father.” He explained embarrassedly, “insisted on giving them to me.”

Dean blinked, taking the box from Cas’s hand—then just grinned down at him. “What, really? I bet that was embarrassing.”

“You have no idea. He tried to give me the Sex Talk. Or at least the Cliff Notes version. When he told me he was going to be away for the weekend. He… assumed. This would happen.” One of Cas’s hands rubbed up and down Dean’s side restlessly. He shrugged. “I guess he was right. He also gave me this,” He held the lube for Dean to see. “Which we are definitely going to need.”

Another blink from Dean and he looked at the lubricant almost blankly. “Uh.”

“It’s different with guys, Dean.” Cas muttered, “you can’t just—I won’t get naturally wet, I—you have to prepare me, or you actually could hurt me.”

“Define ‘prepare’.” Dean said it as a statement, but it was actually a question.

Cas made a soft sound, half frustration and half embarrassment. His eyes skittered away to focus on the stars on the ceiling. “You won’t, um, fit. Unless you stretch me out first. That’s what the lubricant is for. If you don’t do that I—I mean. It’d hurt. A lot. I’d probably bleed. And that’s obviously not what I want from this…” Trailing off a little, he looked back at Dean again. “I’m sorry, we should have had this conversation earlier. It’s probably a turn-off.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, then dropped the box of condoms down on the bed beside them and took the lube from Cas’s hand, adding that to the little pile. “Cas,” He said firmly, “first of all, we’ve already established that the last thing I want to do is hurt you in any way. So, this little talk is necessary. And second?” He grinned and leaned down for a kiss; “we’re currently naked in bed together for the first—and hopefully not last—time. There’s very little that could be a turn-off right now.”

Blue eyes blinked up at Dean in surprise. “Really?”

Another kiss. “Really.” And then a grin and, “you weren’t kidding when you said you did research.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Cas agreed. One hand reached to grab the lube again and he inspected it for a breath before he held it up for Dean to take. “So…?”

Dean chuckled and plucked the lubricant from his fingers. He kissed Cas again—then once more for good measure—before easing back and sitting up. He shuffled his way down the bed a little, then patted at one of Cas’s legs. “I think… if you have your knees up and apart, it’ll work the best.” He let Cas adjust himself accordingly before asking, “how many fingers?”

Cas bit his lip, feeling more than a little exposed at the moment. “Um, start with one. Obviously.” He said, hips shifting awkwardly and only half-hard now, “but the general consensus seems to be at least three. But. In stages.”

“Three.” Dean’s eyes flickered from his hand to between Cas’s legs and he swallowed slightly. “Okay.”

“Just… go slow and use lots of lube. I think.”

“Right.”

It started out awkward, with Dean using probably too much lube and then oh so carefully easing one finger into Cas’s body, slow and steady, then starting to carefully push it in and out of him. Cas swallowed thickly and flung an arm over his eyes, mostly to hide the flaming blush that had overtaken his entire face. Dean kept asking if he was okay and he kept assuring the other boy that he was, of course, it just felt weird.

Adding the second finger changed things. Suddenly there was a stretch and a burn—but a pleasant stretch and burn, one that flared up his spine and made his cock twitch and start to fill out properly again. Cas bit his lip to stifle a little groan—and Dean caught on that immediately, a pleased smirk stretching across his face. He started moving his fingers a little faster and a little deeper.

And then he accidentally brushed against Cas’s prostate for the first time, just slightly.

Cas jolted, and yelped out a shocked cry, his arm flying away from his face and down to grab at the bedcovers.

Dean looked up, eyebrows lifting, and grinned.

“Shut up.” Cas gasped out, even though Dean hadn’t actually said anything. “Don’t stop.”

Of course Dean kept going. Over the course of the next few minutes, he managed to work up to three fingers and reduce Cas to a panting, writhing mess and it was so. Goddamn. Satisfying. He was hard again, now, too, just from watching Cas, his own cock throbbing against his stomach. And he had a pretty good idea of where that spot was inside the other boy, now, he could reliably hit it most times he tried, even if he wasn’t completely sure what it was called.

Finally, Cas arched his back and waved one hand down toward Dean, pulling at the blankets with the other. “D-Dean—that’s enough—oh, God—you’ve got to stop or I’ll—please—!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Dean pulled his hand back and hurriedly grabbed for the box of condoms, pulling one out and ripping it open, rolling it over his aching dick. Then he settled himself between Cas’s legs—and paused, leaning down to bump their foreheads together. “Last chance to back out.”

But Cas just shook his head and tipped his chin to kiss Dean almost desperately. “No way.”

Dean gave a breathless laugh—and then pushed himself into Cas’s now-pliant body.

Both of them just kind of… stopped, once Dean was fully seated, each taking a deep, shuddering breath because—oh God, it felt so damned good. Then they were moving again, Cas to wrap his legs around Dean’s hips and Dean to start thrusting into the younger boy, hard and deep.

Dean buried his face in the crook of Cas’s neck, panting, and Cas did much the same, pressing messy kisses along Dean’s shoulder in between gasps and moans, his arms around his boyfriend, fingers digging little furrows into the back of Dean’s shoulders.

And Dean was good at this, Cas decided distantly as pleasure thrummed through him, flared up his spine and tingled in his limbs, made his vision go starry—meanwhile Dean was thinking much the same; Cas was fantastic, felt perfect against him, around him, with him.

It didn’t really last long, though, especially with Dean’s pace and Cas’s inexperience. Soon enough, Cas was grabbing harder at Dean’s back, throwing his head back against the pillows and crying out loudly as he came—and Dean followed soon after, his hips jerking out of rhythm a few times before he shoved deep and tensed, coming hard with a low grunt.

Then Dean slumped down over him, and Cas lowered his legs back to the mattress, loosening his grip on the older boy with a breathless little laugh.

“We’re laughing?” Dean asked, just as breathless, muffled into Cas’s shoulder.

“We’re laughing.” Cas confirmed and slid one hand up to thread his fingers through Dean’s sweat damp hair. “I just… wow. That’s all.”

Dean grinned against Cas’s skin and tipped his head to kiss at the crook of his neck. “Yeah.” He agreed, “that sums it up nicely.”

–
–

In the morning, Dean woke up to the sun streaming through the window, soft sheets, a comfortable pillow and the smell of perking coffee. Good perking coffee. Not the shitty motel stuff. It was like waking up in Heaven.

Then came the gentle touches against his back, fingers tracing the edges of his muscles and scars, a palm sliding warmly against his skin. A smile tugged at Dean’s lips, and he murmured something unintelligible before cracking his eyes open finally and rolling over onto his other side to face Cas, Cas’s hand dragging the entire way.

The other boy had his other arm tucked under the pillow, his head resting there, and his eyes were the bluest of blue in the early sunlight. Cas smiled at him with just the faintest edge of shyness—but when Dean leaned forward for a kiss, he returned it unabashedly.

“Cas, you…” The words were whispered like a secret between them, even though there was no one else in the room—or even in the house; “last night was incredible, I’ve never… I mean. I’ve been with people before. Girls. But you were… you are…” Shaking his head, Dean glanced down, almost embarrassed, “you’re amazing.”

“So are you.” Cas’s lips quirked and he admitted, “I saw stars.”

Dean laughed at that, “were you looking at the ceiling?” He teased.

But Cas shook his head, even as Dean was angling for another kiss. “No, it was all you. And before you ask? I don’t regret a thing.”

“You really are beautiful, you know.” Dean murmured against his lips, making Cas laugh softly and kiss him again. “What? I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” Cas brought his wandering hand up to cup Dean’s jaw. “But look who’s talking.”

Dean hummed and turned his head to kiss against Cas’s palm. “I guess you can have your opinions.”

“And you yours.” Cas agreed, then smiled again, this time almost shy once more; “I didn’t have nightmares last night, with you here. I…” Glancing down, he murmured softly, “you’re my dreamcatcher, I guess.”

Dean regarded him fondly and tipped his head to kiss against Cas’s forehead. “I’m glad.”

“Stay over every night?” Cas asked, only half-joking.

“I wish.” Dean leaned back and stretched until his back popped, making a satisfied noise afterward. “I haven’t slept that good in ages, either.”

Cas’s little smile widened, and he watched Dean quietly for a moment before reaching out to touch one of Dean’s scars, a small one by his clavicle. “What’s this from?” He asked softly.

“Got shot.” Dean shrugged, “about a year ago. It doesn’t hurt anymore or anything.”

“Who shot you?”

“Someone bad. Doesn’t really matter. I survived, that’s the important thing.”

Cas considered that for a moment before deciding to just accept it for what it was. Dean obviously didn’t really want to talk about it. So, he just changed the topic: “I woke up before you, so I made coffee. Do you want some?”

Dean perked considerably at that. “Oooooh yes, black as a moonless night!”

Cas snorted a laugh and shoved at Dean’s shoulder but climbed out of bed regardless. He was already dressed-ish from his foray down to the kitchen to get the coffee going, just a pair of boxers and—

“Hey, is that my shirt?” Dean pushed up on his elbows, regarding Cas with surprise.

The younger boy shrugged with one shoulder. He looked down at the AC/DC shirt he was wearing blandly. “I couldn’t find mine in the mess we made last night, so I borrowed it. You can have it back later. Why is your shirt about batteries, anyway?”

“Batteries?!” Dean sputtered, but before he could get any farther than that, Cas had already disappeared out the door, heading downstairs for coffee. He padded around barefoot, pouring two mugs of the stuff (an expensive brand his Father insisted on keeping in the house) and then doctoring his own with cream and sugar, though he left Dean’s black as requested.

Then he turned the coffee pot off and carefully made his way back up to the bedroom, where Dean had finished having his fit over the shirt, and bumped the door closed with his hip when he entered, crossing over and handing Dean his mug before gingerly climbing back into the bed with his own.

Dean obviously thoroughly enjoyed his first sip, which made Cas smile around the lip of his mug. “I’m glad you like it.”

“You have no idea the kind of crap I’m forced to drink on the road, Cas. No idea.” The older boy took another drink, humming out a happy noise, then paused, green eyes flicking up to Cas again, “so. You did the… research, right?” He asked, “that… spot. Inside you. That made you… jerk and moan the way you did…”

“My prostate,” Cas murmured around the lip of his mug, “or at least I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

“What does it… feel like?”

Oh, God, how was he even supposed to explain this? Cas swallowed slightly and busied himself taking another couple drinks from his coffee, hedging for time. “It feels…” He trailed off before trying again; “it’s like electric pleasure, shooting up my spine. Like you’re touching some livewire inside me and—God, Dean, it feels—” Breaking off, he shook his head and managed, “it’s so hard to explain. I’ve never felt anything like it. It feels so good. So good it almost hurts.”

Dean was watching him, obviously fascinated, but a little surprised as well. “That good? Really?”

“Yes, I…” Cas nodded, eyes on his coffee now, “when I was looking things up online, it all said it would feel good, but I was not prepared for… I mean. Just. Wow. And you are really good at finding it.”

Dean gave him a little, self-satisfied smirk. “Natural talent?” He suggested.

Cas laughed softly, sipping at his coffee for another moment before asking, “hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

He hummed softly and lifted his gaze to look at Dean intently. “I think we should have sex again.” He informed his boyfriend, before continuing; “for science. To make sure it’s still as good as it was last night.”

Dean nearly choked on his coffee, sputtering a little. “Yeah,” He croaked finally, “we could do that, definitely.”

Cas muffled another small laugh and offered, “I think it turns out I’m ‘just another horny teenage boy’, too, especially now that I know what it’s like. I feel like my Father would be disappointed in me.”

But Dean was already setting his half-empty mug of coffee on the side table and reaching to take Cas’s cup from his hands to set it out of the way as well. “Pretty sure he’s aware you’re a teenage boy,” He informed Cas. “Now, c’mere.”

Dean didn’t get back to Sam and the motel until after dinner time. Sam would probably never let him live it down.