Chapter Text
“I want you to show me.”
Those were the words that wrenched an incredulous laugh from Castiel.
This boy that barely week ago had used his body like a punching bag and left him on the sidewalk in the rain. This boy that had drunkenly clambered into his bedroom in the belly of the night to ask for forgiveness. This boy was... asking Cas to show him what sex was really like?
Castiel found himself sighing. If he was going to start listing facts about Dean that he would rather ignore, then he should also list off the ones that he knew were true. Dean; the boy who’d grown up in the cage like palm of his abuser to spare his brother the same tragedy. The boy whose body wasn't his own, and had been eaten up and chewed rigorously before being spat out, time and time again.
A boy who thought sex was meant to be painful, restrictive and feared.
Deans expression, hopefully teasing on desperate, had flinched at the explosive laugh.
Of course what had he been hoping for? Sure, the good little Christian in him was begging him to forgive and forget. Castiel may hate that side of him, but someone who grew up with religion finds it hard to just throw it away. Even if he would rather chew gravel, than say the Lord's prayer one more time.
“That's pretty brave of you.” Castiel's tongue was sharp like ice. Even he winced at his tone as he met the emerald eyes, unchanged from the first time he'd seen them.
Dean was visibly out of his comfort zone, Cas might have even thrown him a helpline but he wasn't feeling all that generous.
“We both know I don't have any other friends to ask. Cain is friendly with Naomi and....” his voice trails off, the realisation of what he'd done to Cains house sinking in. Plus now he'd escaped, so Cain would come home to an empty house.
He was no longer a boy and he had to own up to his own behaviour. Dean would let Cain settle it however he wanted to and then maybe things could go back to normal.
Did he want them to go back to normal? Was the pain both he and castiel trudged through in every day of their puny lives normal? Perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps there was more out there somewhere.
In Deans silence, Castiel had been watching him with a burning curiosity, even knowing he should just drop the Winchester and wash his hands of the tornado of shit that came with knowing this boy. “What.” Cas quipped, wondering if he really wanted to know.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Anyway I've gotta get to class and so do you.” Without another word Dean steps off the doorstep they'd been standing on and heads towards where the school stood a couple blocks away.
Castiel, with his mind like a whirlwind, followed the blonde-freckled boy into the school.
The dingy hallways were bustling quietly, students that could barely keep their eyes open shuffled to their classes like zombies. First class was English and he’d rather stab himself with a moldy dildo than do that right now, so he decides to take the stairs to the art room. It would be empty until lunch so he had plenty of time for a nap.
Cas curled up on one of the tables, using his backpack as a pillow, and shut his eyes.
...
Precalculus was the last class of the day, so Castiel snuck into the dingy room that smelt like a combo of the entire track team and desperation. As his ass dropped down onto the standard blue chair, which scraped back with an annoyed squeal, a shrill beeping and buzzing shrieked inside his pocket. He leaned forward over the desk and let his head rest against the scratched up surface.
The precal classroom was dreary, with the appeal of a holding cell. It was a fitting blue grey, the type that could only be found in hospital wards or funeral homes. The thought was fitting, he mused as he pulled out the trusty flip-phone, that dreams came to die in Wilcox high school and at least the decorators knew that.
An unsaved number glared at him, lighting up on his screen. It could have been any one of his one night stands or bar adventures since the only numbers he had bothered to save were Meg’s, Gabriel’s, the number for the chinese takeout downtown and the sex health clinic. The rest he would guess. This wasn't any of his family's numbers so it could only be someone he's fucked who’s gotten a little clingy.
One glance up at the teacher confirmed that she was way more interested in her crosswords than actually teaching the precal bunch. Even if Cas collapsed and died, he wouldn't get much more than a grunt from her, old hag.
He pressed the green button and lifted it to his ear, the static on the side heavy with the callers breath.
“Hey baby, never thought I'd hear from you again.” Castiel's voice was a sultry purr, his feet were up on the desk and he was leaning back in the seat, no idea which guy it is on the other side.
“Angel... I've missed you so much, I didn't expect you to pick up but thank you. I want to see you again.”
Castiel's nose wrinkled in disgust. He had only given this guy his number because he was loaded and liked to spoil Cas, he’d buy him stuff that he had to hide under his floorboards as there was no way a teenage boy could explain owning a Rolex. He sighed the way you do when you wish you hadn't picked up. This guy gave him the creeps.
“Im free right now, wanna meet?” He knew that he wouldn't be missed until he was due home in the afternoon, and there was plenty of time between now and then. He could get some well needed dick and maybe earn himself some pocket money.
The breathing on the other side hitched. He cant see the other guy, but he knew that his fingers will be curled around the phone and he was probably palming himself through his jeans.
The phone call ended with Cas blowing a kiss. His eyes focused onto the blonde girl sitting a couple rows ahead who was sitting facing the back staring at him. Pretty slip of a girl but just another plain blonde Jane to Castiel. All the girls were the same to him.
He stuck his tongue out at her not really caring if she overheard at all. Hate to break it to ya kid but gays exist, so do sluts and he just happened to be both.
Only room for one gay slut in Wilcox.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and strolled out passing her desk with a stony glare. Castiel didn’t want assholes getting involved with his shit, and this blonde bitch looked like she might have the balls to try.
The classroom door slammed behind him, hinges groaning like a pathetic attempt of asking him not to leave. He ignored it and strolled down the empty hall. The intelligible scrawling over the lockers and flickering lights guided him out of the school into the parking lot.
Out here the air was fresh. He gulped it down greedily as he made his way across the street into a block of offices. If you could call them that.
They were old. To say the least, had seen better days. Like everything else in this town, the signs were faded. Windows open to let in a flutter of the air. His feet carried him inside, ignoring the receptionists shout. He goes straight up to the office with the ‘do not disturb’ sign hanging off of its knob. As if it wasn’t suggestive enough.
Castiel exhaled sharply. He’d never hesitated for a good fucking but here he was like a nervous date at prom. The gods of self control had left him all alone.
But he didn’t have to open the door, as it opened before he could even knock.
“Angel, so nice to see you again.” a cold voice greeted him with the smooth charm oozing out, he felt sick to his stomach.
“Hey baby,” brown eyes stared him down from the doorway. This man unnerved him, the way his eyes followed him and never once lost his calm, balls deep into Castiel's ass and he was a quiet fuck. The man in question lowered his head in a polite nod. Stepping aside so Castiel could enter the room leaving his dignity at the door.
Instead of his coy smile, Castiel pulled his bottom lip with his teeth, hands clenched into his pockets. Why was he nervous? He had been doing this for the longest time. Castiel sighed and sat up on the desk of Roman enterprises. watching Dick tilt his head, regarding him like a piece of meat.
“I’m surprised you’ve come, little angel. You seemed like you’d just.. fly away.” Roman strolled over to the desk and stood, staring Castiel down from hooded eyes that betrayed his games, trailing his fingers under the younger boys jaw to make him face him. “But you’re not that stupid. Smart little kitten that you are, always landing on your feet.” Said Dick, pulling Cas closer to the edge of his desk by his belt loops.
He lay back against the cool glass, even though he now lay on top of Romans documents and pens. There was a twinge against his ribs as the nameplate dug into him but he ignored it. Arching his back as Dicks gaze ate him up. The shiver that ran through him wasn't from pleasure.
Richard Roman. Preferably called Dick. Owner of Roman enterprises and worlds best douche bag. Unchanging smirk and knowing brown eyes he’d made it rich in Washington, after a minor scandal involving two young boys and some white lines, he’d been sent to Wilcox as a “time out” or at least until people moved onto the next big thing.
The man in question w alked back over to his seat behind the desk. The leather crisp under his suit. Without a word he pointed under the desk and took out his laptop.
Castiel slipped under it. His knees twinging at the grey carpeted floor, clean except for a couple suspicious stains. Here he unbuckled the belt in front of him and began mouthing at Romans boxers. Closing his eyes.
Did Dean like to be teased?
Castiel's eyes flew open at the stray thought. Why was he thinking about that asshole now when he had some guys dick in his mouth. He entertained the thought. Blue eyes fluttering closed as he imagined the Winchester boy gasping at the feel of his lips around his cock.
Would he be rough and yank Cas’s hair? Would he be writhing under his tongue like a girl getting her clit sucked. Would his forest eyes be dazed and plump lips parted, freckled cheeks flushed as he came down his throat.
Castiel blushed suddenly realising he was sporting an erection. He shuddered at the friction of his jeans against his leaking cock when he shiftted back on his knees. Fuuuck... he hadn’t been this hard since he’d discovered his prostate and had a little fun with it.
Castiel moaned as he pulled Romans boxers down, tucking them under his balls and licking the tip. He couldn’t focus, all he could think about was Dean, how he’d look splayed out with his cock standing to attention. Smearing precum against his belly.
He had to stop. It wasn’t the right time or place to think about Dean. He began sucking lightly at the veiny dick in front of him. Castiel would have choked if his gag reflex hadn’t disappeared a long time ago. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of expensive cologne. Who sprays cologne on their dick?
It didn’t take long for Cas to work his way down his cock, humming as it nudges the back of his throat. As per usual, Dick didn’t have any response, he idly worked through his documents and occasionally shifted in his seat. Sneaking his fingers up the pant covered legs that boxed his shoulders,Castiel found the telltale lump of a wallet. He carefully snuck it out and stuffed it in his back pocket.
That was when he heard the office door click open. He froze, eyes wide and started pulling back until he felt a hand on his nape, pushing him forwards until his nose was buried in the trimmed coarse hair. He shuddered feeling Roman’s dick twitching down his throat. Deep and stretching him till he was struggling for breath.
“Ah Mr. Roman, so this is where you’ve been hiding? I’m sure you must’ve heard the fax go through.”
That voice, he knew that voice. Cold and sharp... Cain? What was he doing here? It dawned on Castiel that he must work for Roman enterprises. Fuck.. he was on his knees under the desk sucking Di ck Roman’s cock while Dean’s abusive asshole of a guardian stood at the doorway.
Was Dean okay? The last time he’d seen him was this morning when he’d been leaving precal and peeped into economics, Dean had been taking notes with a frustrated expression.
A smile curlsedhis lips, he’d started noticing that when Dean was focused on something, he nibbled the pen lid, eyebrows pushed together in a frown. It was kinda cute.
Realising what he’s doing, he angrily waved the thoughts away. Sluts don’t think people are cute. “Well Mr. Marked, I’m sure you would have realised that if I hadn’t answered yet, there would be a good reason why.” Romans smarmy voice slithered.
He could hear the testosterone in Dicks voice, Castiel had to swallow a snort at the thought of Cain and Dick in the toilets, comparing dick sizes at the urinals.
There was a rustle, and a husky chuckle. Castiel was still sucking and working his tongue wondering if the man was going to cum down his throat with his coworker in the room.
“I suppose so... ah, before I forget. Will I be seeing you at Alastair’s place? He’s bragging about a new plaything he’s procured. Both him and I own one so I should see if he can get one for you too.” Cas misses the childish way he says plaything,he missed the nonchalant wink and smirk. But he doesn’t miss the fact that they’re talking about Dean.
Maybe Dean wasn't the only one. Maybe it was like a pedophile ring of sickos, kidnapping or adopting boys and keeping them as human chew toys. Castiel frowned as Dick had pushed him closer again, leaking cockhead nudging the back of his throat.
This was bigger than both of them. A shiver trickled down his spine as he realised he had to get out of there as soon as he could.
Roman smiled lasciviously, his fingers curling in Castiel's wind swept wild hair as he huffs a laugh. “Daaww that’s so sweet of you Mr. marked. But you see, I already have one.
He just needs a little training.” He punctuates his words by placing his hand on the boys throat. Squeezing slightly until all his air is completely cut off. Cas grabed at the hand frantically as he tried pulling back with no avail.
Cain left with a hint of honey scented cologne and the click of the lock. When he’d gone Castiel shoves himself away until his head smackd into the wooden back of the desk. He was gasping and glaring up at Dick with teary eyes. Not because he’s a pussy but because he started choking.
“Asshole, you trying to cross that fucking line again?”
He stood up wiping his mouth bristling, daring Roman to lay a finger on him.
“Come on now Angel, I know you like it when it hurts a little. Bend over my desk. I’m not done yet.” He said softly even though his eyes were burning with glee.
He hesitated, Roman has a nasty habit of holding things above people's heads and making them beg for it. Like some kind of sicko, he’d make them dance at his command. The royal Dick knew Cas was broke and that he didn’t make money any other way, using this to his advantage he’d push him way beyond what he’s comfortable with.
And breath play was not okay for him.
But Cas needed the money, he wanted to get out of this shithole town many call home but there was no way in hell he’d be able to with an empty purse.
He shoved his fingers into his pockets to hide the nervous twitching. It wouldn't be the first time he had to bite down his dignity.
Castiel's hands gripped his belt, slowly undoing the buckle. His eyes never left Romans greedy gaze as he exposed himself. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a demure, helpless boy.
Not that Dick cared, as soon as Cas was standing in nothing but his black boxers and anger, Roman had him bent over the glass covered desk, the hard edge digging unforgivingly into his tender belly. Cas hid the wince into the crook of his arms as he buried his head, waiting for it to be over so he could clean up and go find Dean.
He wasn't as lucky as he’d hoped.
...
Dick had stuffed a thick wad of cash in his boxers and pushed him out of his office with a patronizing smirk, his clothes still bundled in his arms and hair a goddamn wreck from being his chew toy. Cas shoved his jeans on and stormed out, making sure to steal one of the secretaries lunches as he walked out into the street.
Halfway to the school and halfway through the swiped bacon cheeseburger his phone buzzes. Cas felt his heart drop, please don't let it be that Dick again. Swiping the call button he swallowed the mouthful, eyes shifty as he muttered. “Yes?”
“Castiel dear, sorry to bother you in class but I expect you home at 5pm. We’re having a family dinner and we are all going to be there. Don't be late darling.”
Without waiting for a reply, Naomi had already hung up on him. Castiel scoffed, sorry? She didn't have the ability to feel sorry for anyone but herself. Cas shrugged it off, letting his feet take him back to his neighbourhood with only minutes until 5. He should make it back by then.
...
Back in the Novak house he'd managed to clean up nicely. T he white shirt and sleeveless sweater made his skin crawl at the scratchy wool , but his mother seemed pleased enough to not mention his untameable hair.
As usual in the Novak household, his father crowned the table. Face settled in his usual frown, he was deep in conversation with his second eldest son, Raphael. Cas’s shoulders sagged with relief. If those two were chatting, then they wouldn't bother asking about his day.
Across from Chuck sat Naomi, hair pulled into a respectful bun. The smile on her face was that of a cattle herder ready to send his flock to slaughter, especially when her crystal sharp eyes landed on her youngest son. Shit, she was 12 kinds of psycho...
To her right sat Zachariah, the asshole had tripped castiel up the stairs on his way down here. Then across from him sat Lucifer, nursing a small stuffed animal that was rag-worn with love. Next to him sat Michael, serving his twin some more vegetables and whispering how he will test them first so he knows they're not poisoned.
Across from michael sat Ana, soft and quiet like she was an apparition at the table. It's just one of those things no one talks about. The dysfunctionality that is.
Gabriel's seat was empty, but cas knows better than to ask where he is. Instead he silently prays that he's okay and that their parents wrath won't be too harsh on his dear brother .
Chuck cleared his throat and threaded his bony fingers together, solemn gaze wandering around the table not even lingering on the empty seat as he started talking.
“My dear family, thank you for coming all together for the lovely food we are about to dine, made by my good wife. The ones gathered here clearly hold our family and our praise to the utmost importance, we have not been strayed by sin or tempted by the devils lure. We are strong warriors of God, I am proud of you.” his lips curl half heartedly into a smile.
“Your brother Gabriel, unfortunately, seems to hold whatever is keeping him from having dinner with his family as... more than his own blood and his God. When he comes back home you will not talk to him. He needs to be punished for this despicable sin and set back on the righteous path. I trust you all know better then to fall into the devils trap my dear children... Lucifer please, bless our food for us son.”
Castiel felt his blood run cold, his father had spoken with the voice that had reminded him of the iron buckled belt that Chuck used to put his children back on track. He couldn't help but swallow. Where was Gabriel? Had he escaped or was he laying somewhere hurt and alone. Chuck didn't give a fuck about what happened to his kids, only when they interrupted with his praise.
His eyes roamed the table until he watched Lucifer shakingly stand, clutching the toy against his chest. After the scare with Dean this morning, he'd kept quiet, but it was obvious he was still shaken up, the purple around his eyes making them sink further into his bony face.
“D-dear Lord... than-thank you for all of the.. The food and-” that's as far as Lucifer gets into his blessing before the sound of the front door creaking open brings a silence to the room. Gabriel's voice calls out softly as if he knew what's coming.
“Father? Mother I'm so so sorry it took so long.” there was the sound of keys being put into the dinky glass bowl at the doorway before he heard Chuck’s chair scrape back.
Oh god, oh god. Chuck was livid. Eyes burning with a dangerous fury, Cas knew he was going to skin Gabriel alive.
“Dad. Dad no!” he lurched out of his chair as his whole word went sideways. As if in slow motion, Chuck slid his belt out of its loops. Feet crashing down onto the old wooden boards as he lunged towards the doorway and the room burst into action. Castiel grabed the fabric of his shirt trying to drag him back from his brother, he saw a fist swinging at him over the sudden chaos of the room. Cas ducked only to be shoved back against the dresser.
The whole thing quaked as he watched Michael scream at their father, murder in Chuck’s eyes. Lucifer was wailing, having stashed himself under the table holding a dinner knife. Naomi was shaking Anna by the shoulders until her head bounced roughly against the wall, fear burning like hellfire in her eyes.
Castiel scrambled to his feet tackling his father. He glanced up to see Gabriel frozen in terror watching the whole scene unravel, he was pale and trembling. The belt was all he could see.
“GABRIEL RUN!” the scream was ripped out of his lungs as Chuck elbowed his chin. He could hear Ana screaming when his head thuds dully against the floor, watching Gabriels feet take the stairs two at a time. Why wasn't he leaving? He had to get out or his father would kill him.
Castiel felt hands on him, It was Zachariah. The bastard was always looking for a reason to hurt him and this was the best excuse. “Why are you helping him you bastard sodomite?” Zachs voice is a hissed bite in his ear. His hair clenched in his elder brothers fist as his head is knocked against the sharp edge of the dresser. Castiel grabed at the arm and growled sputtering blood on his shirt.
“You fight like a coward Zach,” he slamed his foot square in his stomach sending him flying against the table. As he got to his feet he could see that Chuck was missing. Upstairs. His brain screamed at him to hurry.
Following the crashes upstairs as he left the mess behind him, the carpet slipping under his feet as he ran. Chuck was outside Gabriel’s door, slamming it with curled fists until the frame quakes and splinters. Gabriel must be grabbing a backpack before he leaves.
He knew he couldn't take his father on barehanded. So he grabed the bible from the cabinet and stalked over, whispering a sorry before bringing it crashing down on Chucks skull. He watches as his father, stunned, crumpleed to the ground in a bleary haze.
Castiel's own fists pound on the door as he begs Gabriel to let him in. The door creaked open and he sliped inside, sliding the bolt home and throwing his arms around his elder brother.
“Gabe, Gabe you've gotta go. It's not safe. You've gotta get out.” He was sobbing into the crisp white shirt against his cheek. Cas loved his brother and seeing him get hurt time and time again had broken him. Gabriel runs his hand through Castiel's hair and leaned down to look him in the eyes.
“Come with me. Cas i can't- Can't leave you here bro. They'll kill you.” Gabriel's voice was trembling with worry, his eyes were wet from tears and his breathing was shaken.
“I can't. N-not yet,” Castiel's voice was choked with sobs that wrecked his small frame. He clutched Gabriel, never wanting to let him go. “I'll find you. Just go. Get out. Get OUT!” He knew whatever happened out there could only be better then what would happen to his brother here. Cas stuffed Romans stolen wallet into his Gabriel’s hands.
Gabriel kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears, shoving the wallet into his bag . “I love you Cassie. See you soon. Look for Charlie's Angels, okay? I'll be there.” When his hands released him, Gabe walked to the window and slung himself out. Saluting Cas, he gave a tearful smile, before dropping down the side of the house and running towards a beat up silver car. Cas couldn't make out the driver but he watched as Gabriel drove off, the words ringing in his head. Why would he tell him about a tv show?
Cas stayed at the window with his hand pressed against the cool glass.There was the sound of a key in the lock and It opened immediately, his stomach dropped at what he heard. Naomi’s venomous voice rang out in the room.
“What have you done Castiel.”