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Of Tolstoy and Sledgehammers

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To say Dean had a thing for nerds was an understatement, he was just glad he wasn’t 16 anymore, because he really didn’t need to be getting raging boners every time he passed a sweater-vest, glasses-wearing, pale-assed dude with their nose stuck in a book. His maturity and penis-control also came in handy when his company was contracted to do some renovations in the town library.

It wasn’t any old nerd that got his motor going, he definitely had a type; and the guy at the main desk was definitely Dean’s type. Tall, dark, and handsome; pale but not white, slim but not skinny. His hair was messy in a kind of adorable and simultaneously sexy way; his thick-rimmed glasses framed his eyes just right, and the smattering of dark stubble was just the icing of the cake.

A sharp elbow in his back dragged him from his lustful gaze, Sam sliding in front of him.

“We don’t have time for your nerd-kink, Dean. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“I don’t have a nerd-kink.”

Sam scoffed, hefting his toolkit securely under his arm. “Whatever. Next time, if you want to sound convincing, don’t spend five minutes beforehand blatantly drooling over the guy at the desk over there.”

“Just because I find someone hot doesn’t mean I have a fetish.”

“It does when he’s blatantly a nerd! And let’s not bring up the fact the last three guys you brought back home were also nerds. Didn’t the last one have a PhD in Medical Physics?”

Dean looked down at his shoes as he followed his brother up the stairs. “He was working on his doctorate, so what?”

“So, there rests my case. You have a nerd kink.”

“Whatever.”

Sam grinned, marching through the maze of shelves and books and tables and armchairs until they came to the room they were to be working on. It was supposed to be an easy enough job; knock down a wall or two, rebuild another wall, and put in a window. Because it was a simple job, it only required the two of them, although Bobby was going to be helping with the rebuilding, and Garth was supposed to join them to go through the plans.

Dean dropped his bag onto the floor, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets as he paced around the room. It had used to be a study hall for the university students, but the increase of the number of students meant it had become cramped and stuffy and not ideal for studying, so the university had paid a lot of money for the room to be opened up into the main area and partially closed off from the general public. Everything had been emptied from the room, and all that remained was for Sam and Dean to pick up their sledgehammers and take metal to drywall.

“Well,” Dean grinned, clapping his hands together loudly. “I’m ready to demolish some shit.”

Sam smirked, pulling out a can of spray paint from his bag, shaking it sufficiently before painting a large blue “x” on the wall. “As am I... X marks the spot, right?”

“Actually, the notion of x marking the spot was popularised in Robert Lewis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, there’s no real evidence that suggests actual pirates marked their maps with “x”s to show where their treasure was hidden... The more you know.”

Dean and Sam looked over to the doorway, the man from the front desk smiling at them sheepishly. Dean grinned, taking a few steps closer to the man, offering his hand.

“Hey, I’m Dean. This is Sam.”

Still smiling awkwardly, the man shook Dean’s hand. “Um, Castiel... is my name. Sorry, uh, would you like a coffee? Or... tea?”

“That’d be great, Cas, thanks. Coffee for me, black, two sugars.”

Sam chuckled, looking down at the sledgehammer in his hands. “Just tea for me please.”

Castiel nodded, beginning to back out of the room. “Very good. I’ll be back... with your drinks... um...”

Sam began openly laughing once the librarian was away and down the stairs, earning himself a sharp glare from Dean. “Wow. You should get on that, Dean, he’s definitely your type.”

“Shut up. He was probably just nervous, seeing a huge moose like you wielding a sledgehammer.”

“Sure, okay... Are we knocking this wall down or not?”


Dean grumbled a few choices words to himself, grabbing his goggles from his bag and pulling them over his eyes before picking up his hammer. “Go on, Sammy. Ladies first.”

The first couple of swings did little more than put shallow holes in the wall, but it was Dean’s fourth swing that sent plaster and brick flying everywhere. He dropped his sledgehammer down, resting it against the wall as he waved his arm around the disperse the cloud of plaster and brick particles.

“Well, I’d say we’ve earned us a break.”

Sam rolled his eyes but also dropped his hammer. “Dean, we’ve worked for like... five minutes. If that.”

“So? Hey, drinks!”

Sam glanced over to the doorway where Castiel was slowly making his way into the room, his eyes fixed on the hole in the wall before flicking over to Dean. He held one cup out in Sam’s direction, keeping the other close to his chest.

“Tea for you... and, coffee. Black. Two sugars.”

Sam quickly took his drink, noting the way Dean’s fingers brushed over the librarian’s as he took the cup, their eyes locked. Dean smiled his special ‘I hope we get to have sex later on where I’ll suck your dick whilst you quote Tolstoy at me’ smile, quickly pushing his goggles from his face. Sam rolled his eyes again, taking his drink over to the lone window, leaning against the pane, watching all the normal people down below.

“So... Cas. How long have you worked here for?”

Sam snorted quietly to himself, disguising it as a slurp.

“A few years. I started when I was at college... then stayed because... well... why not.”

Dean grinned. “Why not indeed... What did you study?”

“Classic Russian literature, and pre-revolutionary Russian history.”

“Wow, you like Russia, huh?”

Castiel smiled, folding his hands into his trouser pockets. “Yes. I’d love to go one day.”

“You’ve never been?!”

“I’ve never really... had the time.”

“Yeah, no, fair enough dude. One day, though.”

Sam cleared his throat, walking back over to his brother, holding his cup out for Castiel to take. “I hate to interrupt this little... ‘thing’, but we’ve got work to be doing, Dean.”

Castiel smiled sheepishly again, quickly taking Sam’s cup. “Yes, sorry to keep you, I’ll let you get back to work.”

Dean quickly finished his coffee, pushing the empty cup into Castiel’s hand before giving him a quick smile as he scurried away. Sam ignored the glare he was getting from his brother as he went to pick up his hammer.

“Stop cock-blocking me, dude.”

“Stop thinking with your dick during work hours, then.”

--

Dean loved his job. He loved working with his hands. He loved destroying old, derelict buildings and creating something beautiful in its place. He loved being able to drive through the town and be able to point out all the architectural masterpieces he’d worked on. He also loved that his job afforded him the luxury of working in the local library where he got to spend his breaks and off-time chatting up a certain sexy librarian.

He made sure to arrive ten minutes before anyone else, taking his things up to the site before slipping back down to the main desk, where he’d lean on the counter, flexing his muscles in his too-tight shirts, giving Castiel casual smiles and bedroom eyes. Castiel appeared to be responding positively, especially seeing as he’d yet to scold Dean for being a weird stalker and to get back to work. After the first two days of shyness and awkwardness and fumbling over his words, the librarian became more comfortable in Dean’s presence, discussing his literary interests and plans to return to college to work towards his doctorate (to which Dean had to excuse himself to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face).

Sam, as ever, found the situation hilarious, mocking Dean any chance he got, even going as far to rat out his crush to Bobby when he arrived.

“I’m not payin’ ya to make goo-goo-eyes at some librarian, boy. When you’re on the clock you’re either buildin’ or thinking about buildin’!”

Dean rolled his eyes and sat in the corner of the room when he was on his breaks, staring forlornly at the opposite corner, wondering what Castiel was doing, wondering if he was helping a patron find a book, or researching further into his doctorate. He was free to talk to the librarian on his lunch break, however, rushing out of the building site and down the stairs to the front desk. Castiel always greeted him with a friendly smile, giving Dean his undivided attention.

“I’m off to go get lunch for me and Sammy... Are you... free to get lunch with me?”

Cas’ eyes lit up as he glanced around the bottom floor. He held up a finger, mumbling he’d be right back before hurrying away behind some shelves. He returned a few moments later with a man slightly shorter and slimmer than himself, and wearing a messier suit. Castiel ducked behind the desk, grabbing a worn-out brown satchel, and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way round to where Dean was stood.

“I have twenty minutes.”

Dean grinned, shoving his hands into his jeans pocket, casually nodding at the door. “Awesome. So uh... anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“Not really. Anywhere that serves warm food.”

“Fine by me... So who’s the poor sap you got to cover for you?”

Castiel chuckled, idly playing with the strap of his bag. “Inias. He’s a nice enough guy. We started working here at the same time.”

“Cool... How’s the research going?”

Castiel launched into an explanation of how he was having trouble fitting his research into his work schedule, but how the little amount he’d managed to do was fascinating. Dean loved listening to him talk about things he enjoyed, loved the way his eyes almost shone with excitement; not to mention the way his lips formed around the more technical words.

They found a small diner and sat in a corner booth whilst they waited for their food. Dean smiled to himself, gazing out the window as he hesitantly moved his legs beneath the table, hoping to ‘accidentally’ brush his foot against Cas’.

“So uh... are you seeing anyone?”

Dean’s head whipped around, his mouth hanging open slightly. Castiel shifted uneasily in his seat, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Uh... no. No, not seeing anyone. It’s not easy finding someone to... settle with, y’know?”

Castiel smiled shyly, picking at his fingers. “Yeah... though I suppose you’re still young. You have all the time in the world to find someone.”

“Yeah, well, my ‘type’ never usually stick around for long,” Dean chuckled, nervously. “It’s usually just a bit of fun for them and then they move on.”

“Oh... Too bad. What is your type, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Um... Intellectuals. Y’know? Smart guys. I like ‘em... nerdy.”

A darker shade of pink filled Cas’ cheeks. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, just ask Sammy, he likes to lay into me about it. Especially now we’re at the library; loads of intellectuals at the library.”

“Yes, I suppose there is.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking down at the table to avoid eye-contact. “So what about you? Seeing anyone, or...?”

“No, I’m generally unlucky in love. The guys I tend to go for wouldn’t ever spare me a glance let alone bed me.”

“Wow. That... sucks.”

“Yeah... To the point I’m kind of getting fed up of just waiting...”

“Seize the day, man.”

Cas quirked a small smile, pointedly looking away from Dean. “I plan to.”

--

Dean packed up his tools a lot slower than usual, knowing there was only fifteen minutes until Castiel finished his shift. Sam and Bobby had already left to take some things back to the yard, leaving Dean to gather the rest of the tools and give the place a quick tidy before they left for the day. On one of his trips down to his truck to deposit some of his tools, Castiel managed to collar him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him over to the archway leading to the reference area.

“Are you busy tonight?”

Dean grinned, leaning back against the pillar, angling his body towards the librarian. “Not yet.”

“Do you fancy... getting some food with me, or something, when I get off?”

“Well, I need to go home and shower and stuff... but if you don’t mind coming to mine? We could order a pizza or something?”

Castiel’s smile twisted into a wry smirk, one hand casually slipping into his back pocket. “Sure, that sounds agreeable... I get off in ten minutes.”

“I’ll wait outside for you.”

With a sly wink, Castiel walked back over to his desk, leaving Dean to slump against the wall and catch his breath. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, he suddenly noticed the white-knuckle grip he had on his bag; it was rare for him to actually be propositioned by men like Castiel, it was usually him doing the chasing. He gave himself a few moments to compose himself before continuing on with his job, cleaning the room and filling his truck.

He leant against the side of his truck, waiting for Castiel, occasionally checking his watch, thinking about how the evening would go. Checking his watch for the sixth time, Dean looked up to see Cas pushing through the large double doors of the library, quickly scanning the parking-lot for Dean. Dean grinned and gave him a small wave, noticing the books under his arm; with any luck Cas would read to him and Dean would show him his ‘appreciation’.

The ride back to Dean’s was fairly pleasant, considering everything Dean had on his mind given Castiel would not stop fiddling with his tie or talking about the siege of Kazan. He was glad he didn’t have to say much, other than small phrases to express his interest, otherwise it would have most likely come out as a garbled mess. When they got back to the apartment, Dean was almost overjoyed to find it free of any younger brothers. He quickly forced Cas down on the sofa, handing him the TV remote and told him to entertain himself whilst he showered, missing the barely concealed smirk Cas gave him.

Dean made sure he showered quickly, not wanting to leave the librarian for too long in case he lost interest, not expecting Cas to be waiting for him the moment he got out of the shower with only a towel around his waist for modesty.

“I called for a pizza,” Cas smirked, leaning against the wall, his eyes raking over Dean’s chest, watching as a droplet of water journeyed down his collar bone, catching on a nipple. Dean’s hands clenched around his towel, desperate to keep it in place.

“Um...good. I’ll-uh just get dressed.”

“Don’t cover yourself up on my account.”

Dean’s eyes widened, his mouth open, unable to think of anything witty to say in response. He had half a mind to just whip the towel off and drag Cas through to his bedroom. His brain eventually kicked into gear, and he managed to laugh out, “but think of the poor pizza man.”

Castiel laughed, pushing himself off the wall, casually slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. “I suppose... The pizza should arrive in twenty minutes; add about ten minutes to eat and flirt shamelessly... Half an hour in total; I can wait.”

Dean’s mouth fell open once again, his hands almost letting the towel slip through his fingers. He managed to quickly grab it again, roughly wrapping it around his waist. “You crafty-... Am I such a sure thing?”

“Was I?”

“...Touché.”

“Go on, put some clothes on if you must.”

“You know, for a shy, awkward nerd, you’re not all that shy.”

Cas merely winked as he slipped back into the living room; Dean took a few moments to process what had just happened, before finally grinning and rushing into his room to throw some clothes on. Back in the living room, Castiel had found repeats of “Wonders of the Universe” on the Science channel, giving Dean a mischievous smirk when he walked in.

“I don’t know what it is about this show, but I love it.”

Dean smiled, slipping down onto the sofa. “Yeah? I think it’s something about the presenter.”

“Are you telling me you have a thing for Brian Cox?”

“Well... Just look at him! He’s good looking and smart. Whole package, dude.”

Castiel grinned. “The Discovery Channel is like porn to you, isn’t it?”

“Oh uh... well... kind of.”

“No, don’t be ashamed. It’s nice to find someone who’s eager to share interests. Most guys I used to date only watched the Discovery Channel for the explosions on Mythbusters.”

“They are pretty good explosions.”

“I’m not disputing that at all... Do you understand half of the techno-babble, or do you just like hearing smart things?”

“One guy I dated was minoring in relativity and he’d tell me a few things... I have a basic knowledge of paradoxes and the Lorentz Transformation...”

Cas’ eyes widened as he shuffled closer. “Wow.”

Dean smirked. “Not just a dumb builder after all, huh?”

“Not at all... I suppose you appear ‘dumb’ because you surround yourself with exceptional minds, but... Why aren’t there more men like you?”

“...Like me?”

“I suppose it’s my own fault for being attracted to guys with more muscle than brain but... You’re built like a house but into the nerdy things... Where did you come from?!”

“I’m my own brand of special.”

“I hope you don’t find it presumptuous when I say I’d really like to keep you.”

--

The pizza finally came; Dean and Cas ate whilst watching whatever the TV had to offer, their thighs pressed together and shoulders bumping every time they reached for another slice. Dean wasted no time at all pushing himself on top of Castiel, one hand gripping his waist, the other cupping his cheek as they kissed hungrily, Cas’ hands fisting the back of Dean’s shirt, holding their bodies close. Castiel managed to get a leg between Dean’s, pushing his thigh up against his crotch, giving him something to grind against.

“Could we move this to the bedroom. I’d like to be sure it’s me you’re getting off on, and not the science.”

Dean pulled back to sit on his haunches, flashing Cas a cheeky grin. “Sure.”

He quickly rolled off the sofa, grabbing Cas’ hand and pulled him through to the bedroom, shoving him up against the door and attacked his mouth once more. Castiel let out a quiet whine, slinging his arms up around Dean’s neck, holding on tightly when he was suddenly lifted from the ground. Keeping a firm grip on Cas, Dean walked them over to the bed, dropping Cas down onto it, covering his body with his own.

Both men worked quickly to undress the other; clothes were thrown to all corners of the room until they were both naked and rutting up against each other, Dean sucking dark bruises along Castiel’s collar bone, Cas scraping his nails up and down Dean’s back, leaving angry red marks. Cas eventually managed to work a hand between their bodies, curling his fingers around their cocks, letting out a low groan when Dean’s teeth sunk into his skin.

“Fuck! Cas! Talk to me, please.”

Cas smirked, squeezing softly as he began pumping his fist. “What would you... would you like me to say?”

“Tell me... Fuck! Tell me about the Death of-... of Ivan Ilyich.”

Between groans and gasps and heavy panting, Castiel recited his basic knowledge of the interpretation of Tolstoy, whilst Dean took over fisting their cocks, thrusting up into his hand, letting out loud groans and grunts, worrying the skin of Castiel’s neck with his teeth. He pressed his forehead against Cas’ shoulder, quickening his pace, rendering Castiel nearly speechless as he bucked up into Dean’s fist, digging his nails into the meat of Dean’s back, leaving deep crescent-shaped indentations, nearly drawing blood.

“Dean please... I’m so close... Please.”

Dean nodded fervently, pressing their lips together as he began working their cocks more thoroughly, skimming his thumb over the heads to catch the beads of precome, working his fingers back down, always squeezing gently. Cas’ moans began to get more frantic, his fingers scrabbling to get better purchase on Dean’s back as they slipped through the light sheen of sweat that covered them both. Dean panted into the crook of Cas’ neck, mumbling and blaspheming as his hips began to stutter, losing his rhythm.

Castiel ground his head back into the pillows, exposing his marked neck, letting out a low moan as he came. Dean managed to pry his eyes open to watch, the sight of Cas’ eyes scrunched shut, his teeth biting into his plush bottom lip, and the deep flush of pink that filled his cheeks was enough to push him over the edge too. Dean was silent as he came, continuing to thrust into his fist, spilling all up Cas’ stomach and chest before he collapsed completely.

Cas let out another groan, but of discomfort when Dean flopped on top of him. Dean smiled foolishly, rolling to the side, reaching over the side of his bed for anything to wipe them clean.

“You... have such a fetish,” Cas sighed, grinning across at Dean. Dean chuckled, rubbing his t-shirt across Castiel’s stomach, haphazardly cleaning him enough to not warrant an immediate shower.

“I know I do. Good job you fit the bill.”

Cas just smiled, reaching down to grab the covers that were scrunched up at the bottom of the bed, throwing them over their bodies as the cool air started to hit them. Dean smiled, arranging them properly, rolling Cas onto his side and moulding his body around him, throwing his arm across his waist.

“If I wake up and find you gone, I’ll be very upset... Don’t forget I know where you work.”

Castiel chuckled, burrowing back against Dean’s body for warmth. “Don’t worry, your face is too pretty for me to give it up so quickly.”

Dean let out a content sigh, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Cas’ neck. “Are you sure you’re the same guy I met that first day at the library? The one who stuttered and stumbled over his words?”

“What do you expect? I have a serious thing for macho guys with pouty lips and freckles, and there you were, actually talking to me.”

“Trust you to have a type that consists of largely douchebags.”

“Are you a douchebag?”

“I try not to be. I’ll do my best to be good to you, so long as you don’t get jealous whenever Brian Cox is on TV.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll be right there with you.”

Dean trailed his fingers up Castiel’s side, curling them around his shoulder, pulling their bodies closer together. “But he’s not... buff.”

“But he’s got the whole British accent going on.”

“Fuck yes he does.”

Cas chuckled, craning his head back to get a look at Dean, smiling sweetly. “I think this thing might work, y’know.”

Dean smiled back, giving Cas a quick peck on the lips. “I do too... I promise I’ll keep working out so long as you read to me sometimes.”

“Deal.”

Both grinning from ear to ear, they snuggled up even closer, Cas’ back pressed flush against Dean’s chest, their legs tangled under the sheets, and Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around Cas’ chest, fingers laced together as they began drifting off to sleep.