Chapter Text
So warm, so soft and pliable.
"I'm pliable because I can barely move after that last position you had me in."
A loud laugh, big and full of real joy. "Didn't mean to say that out load."
A happy hum, a contended sigh. "Well you did." Castiel chides, play-scowling at Dean. But then strong arms wrap around him, tuck him in close, and Castiel hums in delight.
"You hungry?" Dean asks, then laughs again when Castiel buries his face in his neck. "Come on," Dean insists, slapping the boy's ass, "it's almost two o'clock and you haven't eaten since nine. Your mom will kill me if I don't provide a healthy lunch for my favorite employee."
Castiel huffs, groans, "Fine." And reluctantly untangles himself from his lover's embrace. But instead of hopping out of bed, he lays flat on his back, and stretches, lithe, feline, and graceful. "You know," he says a minute later, sitting up to check his reflection in the large floor-to-ceiling-mirror propped against a far wall, "I'm glad you bought that mirror."
"Of course I bought it." Dean replies, dragging a hand down the boy's spine. "It's perfect." A warm kiss on narrow hips, a nip on tender skin. "Just like every other piece of furniture you told me to buy." Another kiss, and Castiel turns, faces Dean, and Dean leans over, exhales over the boy's prick, a gust of heated breath, and Castiel grows hard. "It's all perfect." Dean says, hushed, lips pursed over the damp head. "Just like you."
And oh fuck, Castiel couldn't love this man more. With his whole heart and soul, Castiel would do anything for Dean. "Oh yeah." he grins, wiggling from under Dean, pushing him onto his back, and straddling his lap. "you're in for it now, Mr. Winchester."
"Is that so?" Dean grins back, bucking his hips and unbalancing Castiel. But then Dean checks the clock on his nightstand, and stills. "Baby, come on, you need to eat okay. Hop off."
But Castiel locks his thighs and doesn't budge. He swivels his hips instead, a sexy grind, an erotic little lap-dance, and maybe lunch can wait, after all. "Cas-" Dean sighs, strong hands holding Castiel by the hips, hard dick poking him in the ass, "you're gonna be the death of me." He swears, spreading the boy's cheeks, feeling for his hole, then slipping into glorious wet heat.
An hour later, a ravenous Castiel eats every bite of his lunch.
...
Castiel stands in front of his bedroom window, freshly showered, naked, cock half hard, then throws on his work clothes when he spots Dean pulling into the driveway. He thunders down the stairs, tool bag cradled safely in his arms, barrels towards the front door, when...
"Cassie?"
Castiel screeches to a stop, stares wide eyed at his mother. "Yes?"
"Why aren't you at work?"
Castiel tugs at his henley, points at the dried plaster stains, at the myriad of paint spatters dotting it in a kaleidoscope of colors. "I came here for a change of clothes." He answers, eyes narrowed. "You know, for work. It's not like I'm just hanging out over at Mr. Winchester's house doing nothing while he does everything. Okay. I work hard too. Really hard actually." He fans his hand, shows her his callouses, "I mean, I've been going over there, without missing a day, since last summer, and now I can't even take a minute to make sure I don't ruin my school clothes without you-"
"Okay, okay." Amelia throws her hands up, huffs, "No need to get defensive, honey. I didn't mean to upset you. I just never see you until after dark, anymore." And it's true. Castiel has his own key to Dean's house and always heads there right after school, rarely making it back to his own house until way past dark.
Except for today.
Today Castiel is running late, and has fallen off his usual schedule. But it's for a good reason. The most important reason, really. Because today he met with his school councilor, and together, they prepared Castiel's application for an internship as a 'building engineer' at 'Winchester and Sons'.
"I just thought," Amelia exhales, shakes her head, embarrassed with herself, "I guess I thought you were home because Dean had-"
"Fired me?" Castiel rolls his eyes, arms crossed, foot tapping, disappointed at his mother. "Thanks for the show of confidence, mom."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. You've been so good lately and so responsible. And I've never seen you so...engaged, so focused, and Dean just thinks the world of you." She throws her arms around her son's shoulders, squeezes, holds him at arm's length, and beams, eyes glassy. "We're just so proud of you."
Castiel allows the fawning, hugs his mother back, but he really needs to leave; he can't wait to share his exciting news with Dean. "Thanks mom."
"Go on then." She tells him, and Castiel nods, carefully picks up his tool bag (he needs to be gentle with it, or he might damage the glass plug he plans on inserting after he and Dean fuck) and with measured steps, and his heart beating a frantic beat - a swarm of butterflies doing their damnedest to escape through his throat - Castiel walks out of his house, and heads home.