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Everything Goes My Way

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Cas loves the sneaking around. 

There’s a certain kind of thrill that comes with rushing into supply closets, hanging back in deserted corridors, and the danger of being caught. 

This is definitely not the road that anybody hoped, or even expected, Cas would go down. 

Cas fulfills everyone’s wants and wishes of him, without asking for anything else in return, right up until the start of sophomore year. And even then he’s still the golden boy of the entire school, but now he’s taking a little extra for himself too. That little slither of selfishness, the very peak of Cas’ days, is Dean Winchester. 

Cas is still on the football team, and is still one of the most popular boys in school as well as the smartest. Nobody would dare pick a fight with him, not because everybody knows he’d kick them flat on their ass - which he would - but because he’s just generally well-liked, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. So everyone was a little shocked and concerned when they saw Cas talking to the new boy from Kansas who swore like a sailor and saw rules as things to be broken. 

There was an uproar, actually. Michael had made that much clear when he questioned Cas about it over the dinner table, and told him not to speak to Dean again. Anna was a little worried too, but she smiled at Cas in a way that made him think she knew what was really going on – always the intuitive one.

Now they know to be more careful. Kisses are stolen in secret and conversation is kept for behind closed doors. Cas is full of pure smugness when the whispers die down and everyone assumes things are back to the way they were. They couldn’t be more wrong. And it’s days like today that make Cas inexplicably excited, brimming with anticipation as adrenaline pumps through his veins. 

He showers quickly after practice, just to wash the sweat and dirt off before he races back into the locker room and pulls his clothes on, skin still damp and hair dripping. Michael corners him just as he tries to leave, being the hawk of an older brother he is, and asks where Cas is going with a hard look.

“The library. I have a history project.” Cas looks back at Michael with an expression of pure innocence; wide eyes and sweet smile gracing his lips.

Cas’ pulse raises as Michael continues to stare at him, because maybe he knows. He doesn’t know who or what, but he knows there’s something different about his little brother. Cas goes through the options in his head; all the things that he thinks must be running through Michael’s mind. He wants to laugh because the worst would probably be Cas dating someone from their rival school. 

Michael would never assume Cas is still talking to the boy he specifically told him not to. So thought of Cas on his knees for him - it’s not nothing short of ridiculous. 

“Don’t stay too late.” Cas gets a power rush as Michael’s posture relaxes and his suspicion melts away. 

“I’ll be back by dinner.” 

Michael nods and lets him go, but Cas can feel his eyes burning into the back of his head as he disappears into the hallway. Not that it serves as any kind of deterrent; it just has him walking even faster to get outside and into the parking lot.

The place is mostly deserted. Everyone has either gone home already or they’re still finishing up from after-school activities. It’s perfect, allowing Cas to stride across the concrete towards Dean’s car with no watchful eyes. They have to do it like this - everything has to be discreet and careful - because if word ever got out that precious Castiel - the school darling, baby Novak, star athlete and brainiac - was slipping into Dean Winchester’s Chevy Impala, there would be hell to pay. 

As it is, nobody is around to prevent Cas from leaning over straight away to plant a kiss on Dean’s mouth. He’s barely shut the door when he surges forward, searching for the plump push of Dean’s lips and the slide of his tongue. Dean gets a hand around Cas’ neck, thumb stroking the hollow of his throat as he bites at Cas’ lip and pulls away. 

“Well someone can’t keep away,” Dean teases smugly, eyes flickering to Cas’ pink lips, now shiny and parted. 

“I couldn’t wait,” Cas breathes, and he doesn’t even realise that he’s shifting towards Dean again until he feels the firm kneading of Dean’s thumb in the dip of his collar bone. A warning. Cas has learnt that Dean’s warnings don’t require words to carry out the same function. He edges back a little, cheeks already pink and burning. 

“So desperate for it, sweetheart, so eager.” Dean’s thumb drags up the line of Cas’ jaw, before he presses it into the swell of Cas lip, spreading the slick of spit there. “But not yet.” 

Cas deflates when Dean turns away and gets the engine going, but he shuffles over anyway and kicks his backpack into the footwell, settling into the warm leather of the seats. Cas isn’t exactly sure what he and Dean are anymore. Dean had always said it’s just sex, but Cas isn’t so certain. They ended up here because they were intrigued. Dean was like nothing Cas had experienced before, and Cas was the antithesis of what Dean thought he wanted. So there’s always a charge in the air, a thick static that grows and grows during the car ride from school to the woods on the edge of town. All the things that they know should be said, but still can’t bring themselves to say. 

Sometimes they talk, and other times they don’t. It doesn’t seem to make a difference; they’ll still end up in the backseat. But Cas likes the sound of Dean’s voice, the midwestern drawl of his words when his lips aren’t giving out filthy commands and crude questions. Cas likes listening to Dean talk about his brother; how he’s the smartest kid he’s ever seen. He doesn’t even mind all that much when Dean mocks his taste in music, going off on a tangent about his favourite bands and why they’re timeless. 

If people knew, they would say Dean is using Cas for the sex. But he’s not. Cas knows that, but he wonders if Dean does. Every time he stares at Cas with a small smile for a minute too long, he looks away abruptly and starts talking about something else. Cas doesn’t think this can be just sex when Dean willingly holds him afterwards, even though space is limited and they both have cramp in about five different places. The gentle kisses to his shoulder and temple, the tender touches over darkening bruises. 

Cas is quickly jolted out of his own mind when they come to a stop. They’re hidden by a barrier of trees, evening sun piercing through the leaves to bathe the Impala in an orange glow. Cas’ hands are twitching at his sides as Dean puts the car into park, and Cas waits impatiently for Dean to redirect his attention to him. And when Dean finally does get a good look at Cas, he drinks it all in with a feral grin. 

“Look at you, bet you ran out of practice thinking about this.” Dean reaches out to thread his fingers through Cas’ damp hair, letting him push into the touch. “Did you rush to the showers? Make sure nobody else saw all those pretty marks I left?”

Cas lets out a shaky breath as Dean’s mouth hovers next to his ear, lips almost brushing the skin as his voice fills up Cas’ head. Cas’ mouth has gone dry and he knows nothing but a croaky mess of sounds will leave his mouth now, so he just nods and inches closer. 

“Bet you had to lie your way here,” Dean whispers, teeth grazing Cas’ earlobe to elicit a shiver from him. “What’d you tell ‘em?” 

Cas’ brain has already gone into overdrive and he can’t put the words together, his mouth hanging open uselessly as his chest rises and falls. Then he feels a sharp tug of his hair, Dean’s fingers curling against his scalp, and he knows he has to answer anyway. 

“The library - I said I was going to the library.” It comes out hurriedly, and Cas can only think about Dean’s hot breath against his neck now, and is distracted by the image of Dean taking him apart kiss by kiss. “Said I was studying.” 

Dean hums appreciatively and nips just under Cas’ jaw, licking carefully over the indentation his teeth have left. “Perfect little slut, lying to everyone so you can come out here and get fucked.” He smiles against Cas’ skin, a small smirk that makes Cas tilt his head and preen. “Do you get off on it? Fooling everyone that you’re some innocent angel - do you touch the bruises when nobody’s looking?” 

Cas’ head falls all the way back as Dean sinks his teeth harder into his neck, pulling at the flesh before he sucks a fresh mark by the base. Somewhere, in the very back of Cas’ mind, there is a passing thought that he’ll have to wear a button-up tomorrow to hide it, and it has his cock hardening even faster. 

“I do it all for you,” Cas says hurriedly, voice raspy and dripping with want. And it’s just what Dean wants to hear, has him lunging at Cas’ mouth again with little finesse. Dean’s teeth clang against Cas’ and he pulls on Cas’ hair hard enough to sting, but Dean licks into his mouth with nothing but hungry determination, tongue curling around Cas’ and sliding over the roof of his mouth. 

When Dean pulls away, Cas recognises a fire in his eyes. “Nobody else gets to do this, touch you like this,” Dean says, his possessive streak manifesting itself in a tight grip on Cas’ hips. “Just me, right?” 

“Only you - I’m yours.” And Cas means it, he wouldn’t be doing this with anybody else, wouldn’t dream of it. Dean’s fingers work their way under the hem of Cas’ shirt when he brings their foreheads together, noses brushing side by side. 

“So fucking perfect, Cas,” he breathes, nails raking across Cas’ skin. “God, my fucking perfect angel.” 

Cas obediently lifts his arms up as Dean pulls his shirt up and over his head, relishing the way Dean’s eyes still skate over his body every time, never bored with the lean spread of his chest or the shape of each muscle. 

“Backseat. Now.” 

Cas does as he’s told with a bitten-back smile, climbing over the front seat to lay himself out in the back, pushed up on his elbows and waiting for Dean to take what’s his. Cas’ legs are open when Dean gets into the back, and he strips out of his own shirt before settling between Cas’ knees. 

He leans down to kiss Cas again, soft sounds from Cas being swallowed whole, caught somewhere between Dean’s tongue and Cas’ pliant mouth. Cas’ hips lift as Dean’s fingers move to his waistband, yanking the zipper down and pulling his jeans open. Cas feels Dean’s smirk against his lips, then gets a hard bite for getting ahead of himself.

“Not yet, baby, wait.” Dean pulls away, a low chuckle escaping him when Cas tries to chase his mouth. Dean shifts a little, moving down to get his mouth on Cas’ nipple, tongue flicking out across it as Cas’ breath hitches. “What do you want?” Dean asks, one hand palming Cas’ cock over his underwear. 

“Ah - anything, just please, Dean-” Cas gasps, hands scrabbling at the leather of the seat as Dean blows cold air over his nipple. 

“Come on, sweetheart, you want me to fuck you?” Dean’s voice has dipped an octave, and he scrapes his teeth against the nub of Cas’ nipple just to hear him moan around his name. “Want me to hold you down, fuck you until you’re limp, leave you feeling it for the rest of the week?” 

“Fuck, fuck, yes!” Cas’s hips buck again when Dean circles his thumb against the slit of his cock through the fabric. “Dean, Dean, please,” Cas whines, digging his nails into Dean’s shoulders. “I need-“ 

“Shh, baby, I know what you need, I’ve got you.” And Dean presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Cas’ mouth, a softness in his eyes that neither of them know what to do with.

Dean stretches over the front seat to pull the glove compartment open, blindly reaching for the lube and condoms stuffed in there. Cas ignores the temptation to touch his cock while he waits, knowing that it’s always better when they do it Dean’s way, but he’s rock hard in his jeans and can barely think of anything else. 

His fingers are trailing down his stomach and dangerously close when Dean returns, quickly batting his hand away. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” 

Cas shakes his head, unable to say anything with Dean’s fingers dipping beneath his waistband, just hovering there. “Please, Dean.” 

Dean smiles crookedly, placing a sloppy kiss to Cas’ hipbone. “God, fucking love it when you beg.” Dean pulls down Cas’ underwear with his jeans, yanking them from his ankles before throwing them to the floor. Cas’ cock bobs up against his stomach, flushed and red, precome beading at the tip. 

Dean bypasses it though, gently cupping Cas’ balls before he strokes a finger against the soft skin behind. Cas watches him from half-lidded eyes, blown wide with lust and only a slither of blue. Dean slicks his fingers up and circles Cas’ hole, teasing lightly before he pushes in up the first knuckle. Cas’ knees fall wider apart as he huffs out little breathy noises, each one coming faster as Dean shifts his finger.

“More please,” Cas asks, and it’s so fucking earnest and almost innocent, that Dean can’t help but push his finger all the way inside much rougher than means to. Cas sighs happily though, riding off the heat that’s already building up low in his belly. “You won’t break me,” he whines, tilting his hips up persistently. 

“Mm, maybe I wanna take my time opening up your pretty little hole.” Dean slips another finger in, slower this time, and scissors them in tiny movements, watching Cas squirm and writhe with impatience. 


Although it’s sweltering inside the car, an evening breeze rolls in through the window and alerts Cas that it’s steadily getting later. Which means they need to get a move on so Cas can get home, as much as he really sort of loves Dean’s teasing games. Cas grabs a handful of Dean’s hair and drags his face up, catching his open mouth in a filthy kiss that has Dean fingers stretching Cas’ hole wider. 

“Please, I need you to fuck me right now,” Cas mumbles against Dean’s mouth, and he’s rewarded with a rumble from Dean’s chest. Cas pushes down onto Dean’s fingers, his breathing loud and harsh in the surrounding silence, his hair already curling at the nape of his neck from sweat. 

“Fuck,” Dean says, an edge to his voice that tells Cas he’s almost ready to give in. Dean adds a third finger and ignores all the whimpers coming from Cas, spends a little longer watching his fingers disappear into Cas opens him up more. Dean can’t hold off after Cas’ head knocks back against the door, his back arching as Dean gets the right angle and pulls out another moan from him.

Cas is caught between disappointment and excitement when Dean pulls his fingers out, watching as Dean wriggles out of his jeans and boxers with anticipation thrumming through his veins. Dean moves back over to haul Cas up, his back curved against the car door as Dean hooks his arm under one of Cas’ knees, spreading his legs further apart.

For a moment Dean thinks he’s lost the lube, but it’s already in Cas’ hands as he pours some into one palm with a sweet smile. Cas tosses the tube to one side and keeps his eyes locked on Dean’s as he slicks his cock up, deliberately jacking him with slow strokes and a loose grip. 

“You’re a fucking tease,” Dean growls, but he’s smirking again as he takes Cas’ wrists into one hand and pins them up against the window. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Dean grins, and he nudges his cock at Cas’ hole gently. “Or should I tease you some more too?” 

“Just do it, I want to feel your cock, please,” Cas says with gritted teeth, but the stubbornness is lost when he chokes on a sob halfway through. Dean hitches Cas’ leg up further, presses his wrists against the glass harder, and leans down. 

“Tell me how much you want it, tell me how much of a fucking cockslut you are.” Dean’s breath is hot against Cas’ ear, all snarled syllables dripping with desire. Cas can feel his hands shaking in Dean’s grip, his thighs trembling around him, and thinks he might die on the spot if Dean leaves him hanging for any longer. 

“I want it so much, want you inside me, want you to fuck me so hard I can’t sit down tomorrow, please Dean, please,” Cas babbles, desperate sounds clinging to each word as Dean presses a little harder against his hole, lets his stomach rub against Cas’ leaking dick. 

Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans, and he bites into Cas’ shoulder as he sinks into him at an agonizing pace. Cas’ breathing is ragged and choppy, and the pinkish shade of the sky has him digging one heel into the small of Dean’s back, abruptly pulling him in until Dean’s cock is buried inside of Cas to the hilt. Dean makes a brief sound of complaint, but Cas forgets all about it as soon as Dean pulls back to slam into him, knocking all the air out of Cas’ lungs. 

Everything becomes a hot blur to Cas after that. A mess of Dean’s wet kisses all over his chest, sucking red marks wherever he can get his mouth, but surreptitiously leaving faint ones on his neck. Cas’ head is spinning, taking in the focused expression of Dean’s face as he punctuates each dirty string of words with a harder thrust, fucking Cas thoroughly into the car door. 

“I bet you get off on being out here, where anyone could find us, blow your cover as the sweet baby Novak,” Dean says, slowing down to roll his hips into Cas, splitting him open on the edge of too-good and not-enough. “God, I fucking love it, knowing you’re such a whore for my cock.” 

Cas makes a pained sound and squirms beneath Dean, trying to get him moving again. There’s not enough oxygen in the humid air of the car, and Cas is breathless and panting when he speaks up. “Harder, fuck me harder, Dean, please, fuck-” Cas nips at the sensitive patch of skin just below Dean’s ear, crying out suddenly as Dean’s hips stutter and buck up into his prostate. 

“You’re killing me - you know that?” Dean groans, and thrusts into the same spot relentlessly for emphasis, his iron grip around Cas’ wrists tightening even more, and Cas can practically feel the bruises forming already. “Fuck, baby, you look so good taking my dick. Wish I could do this all day, fuck you until you’re loose and exhausted, then watch you suck me off, let me fuck your face.” 

Cas’ eyes roll back into his head and he slips down the seat, the sweat pouring off the two off them making the leather too slippery. “I want you to,” Cas gasps, and he’s so close to losing it. They both know it’s a good thing Dean has him pinned, arms outstretched above his head, otherwise Cas would be boneless putty right about now, only able to make those criminal sounds. 

“I bet you can come without me even touching your cock, can’t you?” Dean asks, lips ghosting over Cas’ as he continues to slam into him, a prickling burn raging through his own muscles from the exertion. 

“I can’t-“ 

“Yeah - yeah you can, baby you can,” Dean says softly, and the slacked grip on Cas’ wrists tells him that Dean probably has some intense cramp in his arm right now. “Fuck, Cas, you drive me crazy, ‘m always thinking about you going home after I fuck you, sitting down for dinner with my come dripping out of your fucked out hole,” Dean drawls - and that’s the final push. 

Cas’ eyes fly wide open and he stares up at Dean unblinking as his toes curl and his body seizes up, shooting come all over his chest. Dean fucks him through every tremor, presses his lips to Cas’ adam’s apple as a shout gets caught in his throat. Then, true to Dean’s word, Cas’ body gives out entirely and he feels like he’ll never move again. Dean never lies when says he’ll fuck Cas into next week, and it means that practice is going to be hell tomorrow. 

“Look at you, fuck, my perfect fucking angel.” And Cas just purrs contentedly as Dean keeps thrusting into him, happy to bask in the afterglow with Dean’s flushed face only inches away. 

“Mm, I’m all yours,” Cas mumbles, and throws a leg around Dean’s waist. “Even when I touch myself, you’re the only one I think about.” 

It tips Dean over, has him making a guttural sound before he’s spilling into Cas, filling him up and releasing his wrists as he collapses with a choked cry. They stay like that for a while, and there’s probably a conversation they need to have if they’re happy to lie in a sticky mess of bodily fluids just to exchange tired smiles. It doesn’t come though, not today. 

Dean just swipes two of his fingers through the pool of Cas’ come and pushes them past Cas’ lips. Cas’ draws them in, humming around the digits like there’s nothing else the world he’d rather be doing. And maybe there isn’t, which is scary. But somehow, because of Dean, it isn’t.

“Dean,” Cas starts, running a hand through the back of Dean’s short hair. Dean lifts his head from where it’s pressed flat against Cas’ chest. “My right leg is numb and I’m going to be late.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and scoffs lightly, making no move to get up. “Christ, gimme a minute, Cas.” 

And when Cas does get home, he does as exactly as Dean tells him, a parting gift in the form of a whisper in his ear. He walks up to his door and hopes nobody notices the slight limp he’s sporting, and doesn’t go upstairs for a quick shower or a change of clothes. Instead, he sits down at the dining table, wincing a little, and spurts out lie after lie to Michael about the history project he actually finished a week ago. All the while, his own come drying on his chest under his shirt, and Dean’s leaking out of his hole and sliding down this thigh.

Cas is pretty sure he knows exactly why he loves sneaking around so much.