Castiel slowly returned to consciousness, his inner clock alerting him to the sun beginning to creep over the horizon. The motel room was still dark, but the early morning light was enough to see the wreck they had reduced it to. It was a good thing-Dan? Derek? Dean!- Dean had decided to put his credit card up for collateral instead of Cas'.
Cas didn't bother looking over at the other side of the bed. He eased the covers back and quietly began to gather his clothing. He snorted a light laugh when he discovered his tie still knotted to the headboard. An electric shock of want bolted down his spine as he rubbed the red mark around his wrist.
The tie came undone with a little resistance, but the pile of blankets didn't move. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief that this one was a heavy sleeper. He didn't do the morning after dance, preferring to slip away while his conquests were passed out.
There was a mirror that hung above a writing desk pushed up against the wall. Castiel scrutinized his mussed appearance. Most of his outfit from the night before was back in place; black slacks, white button down, blue tie, but no matter where he looked, his boxers could not be found. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair in frustration. It didn't make much of a difference, he knew, since the black shock always looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, whether he had or not. There were bags under his ice blue eyes, but when presented with the choice between sleep and some of the dirtiest sex he'd ever had, well…he could sleep when he was dead. He did need to get out of here soon, though. His hook up was sure to wake up any minute.
Cas had almost abandoned his underwear to the motel gods in sacrifice for what he'd done to the room when a flash from last night made him grin.
They had stumbled into the room, drunk and horny, connected from lips to knees. When they had to pull away for air, Castiel gripped Dean's face, taking a moment to appreciate his beauty. His green eyes were large, and currently full of lust. The broad chest Cas wanted to lick for days was heaving, as though Dean had run at a full sprint. His full lips were red and swollen from Castiel sucking and biting them. He returned to that task, their tongues battling for dominance. The struggle drew low moans and whispers from deep in Dean's chest.
Not to be outdone, Dean nipped at Castiel's tongue, dropping to his neck, light bites making Cas moan. Dean shoved him against an already cracked wall and ripped his tie and shirt away before moving his sinful mouth to Cas' already sensitized nipple. Castiel panted heavily, running his blunt nails through the other man's short, sandy hair. The vibrations from Dean's groan of pleasure ran straight from his nipple to his already aching hard on. Castiel's head thumped against the wall as he arched into Dean's mouth. Dean smiled into Cas' skin, biting and licking stomach, chest, shoulders in a random pattern Castiel couldn't predict. He ground their hips together in an unsuccessful attempt to get Dean to move the fuck on!
When Dean couldn't, or wouldn't, take the hint, Cas grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back across the room against the door to the bathroom. Dean smirked at the lust-darkened eyes glaring at him in the half-light of the room. "You were doing that on purpose," Castiel accused, his voice low and deep. Dean's smirk merely widened. Cas snarled, slamming the tease against the door harder. A sharp, wooden crack echoed in the small space. The door gave a little under the assault. Cas hadn't meant to break anything, but the blonde man's answering moan had elicited a banging on the paper thin wall from their unfortunate neighbor, so Cas figured he didn't mind.
Castiel worked the taller man's jacket off, followed quickly by his t-shirt. Cas ran his fingertips over the well defined muscles bared before him. Dean grabbed his wrists and pulled Cas against him, working to maintain control. Cas leaned his body against Dean's, allowing him to direct for now. Dean's hold on Castiel's wrists relaxed when the smaller man again sought friction by working their hips together.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean hollered when Cas twisted out of his hold and grabbed his hips, then held them against the door, away from his own. He was stronger than his slender frame let on.
"You tease me, I'm going to tease you," Castiel purred, his voice coated in gravel. Dean whimpered and tried to arch his hips toward the blue eyed man, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. "No," gravel turned to growl as the grip on Dean's hips tightened and Castiel forced them back against the bathroom door again. Another whimper escaped Dean's cocksucking lips, but this one had been dipped in more arousal than frustration. "You kinky son of a bitch. You like someone taking control," Cas huffed into Dean's ear. He was careful to make sure the only point of contact was his hands on Dean's hips. Their chests and stomachs were mere centimeters apart, but were not touching.
"Bullshit," Dean growled back, grabbing Castiel's shoulders. Cas had enough time to wonder what the hell the other man was going to do before Dean's well muscled leg went between his and he was thrown around. There was a louder cracking sound when Castiel's back hit the wooden panel of the door before the door gave way and they were both thrown into the small restroom.
Dean landed on the thinner man, forcing a small "oof" out of him. "I am always in control," he informed Cas. Castiel felt his eyes widen at the warning in the words, but the hot needneedneed running through his bloodstream kept him from caring how they got to the finish line, as long as they got there.
They were again connected from the lips down as Dean attacked Castiel's mouth. Dean's tongue did not seek permission, but simply bullied its way past lips and teeth. Cas responded in kind, making the kiss messy and dirty. He gripped the hair at the nape of Dean's neck, tugging and directing the kiss as much as he could. Dean whimpered and growled, unable to control his reactions to the fierceness of Castiel's return assault.
In retaliation, Dean situated his knees between the other's instead of lying flat on him. Bracing his weight on his elbows on either side of Cas' head, he pulled away from the kiss and gave a knowing leer. "Wha-?" was all Castiel could articulate before Dean's hips ground into his. It was vicious and sudden and hot as fuck. His vision went white as his mind was overtaken by nothing but the sensation of pressure and friction against his dick that had been too hard for too long.
He stamped down the orgasm that rushed him, determined to make Dean pay. It took all of his concentration to stave off the perfect oblivion being promised, but he somehow managed.
The shock of the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor on his ass brought him back to the moment. Dean had somehow managed to get rid of Castiel's pants and was working on his boxers. Cas bent his legs to help with the underwear removal. A shout ripped its way from Castiel's throat when Dean leaned over his throbbing cock and let his breath ghost along its length. More banging from the frustrated neighbor drew Dean's green eyed gaze away from Castiel's blue one. "Looks like we're going to have to be more quiet," Cas observed distantly.
"Fuck. That," Dean replied. Castiel had never really been turned on by foul language, but every curse from that square jaw and full lips ratcheted Cas' arousal up another impossible level. "I'll just have to gag you."
Cas ' jaw dropped and he almost came right then.
Dean thrust the underwear into Cas' open mouth. "What the fuck?" Cas tried to say around the fabric. It came out a garbled mess, only partially resembling speech. He went to pull out the makeshift gag, disgust suddenly warring with arousal.
Dean grabbed Cas' wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. With his other hand, he gripped Cas' flagging erection and started working it back to full mast. "Jesus, Cas, it's so fucking hot. Leave it in, please. You can be as loud as you want now. I bet you're a screamer, aren't you? A filthy fucking screamer, wanting everyone to know what you're doing. Is that was you want? The people next door call the cops, they bust in here. They see me balls deep in your ass, fucking you into the floor, using your own underwear as a gag?" Cas' eyes rolled into the back of his head as Dean's dirty talk fanned the flames of his arousal.
Cas was brought out of his memory by a light cough. Damn, he thought. Time to dance. He looked over at the bed, but the blankets hadn't moved. Puzzled, he scanned the room looking for the cougher. The broken door had been leaning in a faulty approximation of where it belonged when Cas had woken. Now it hung wide open, Dean twirling Castiel's underpants by their waistband around one long digit. He was bare chested, jeans hanging loose around his hips. They were unbuttoned. "You didn't turn the light on," Cas said in place of 'hello'.
"Didn't want to wake you," Dean shrugged. Castiel guessed they'd had the same plan to leave before the other woke up. Dean's eyes darted to the cotton shorts he was holding. "Orange?" The smirk stretched his lips and Cas had another flashback of them stretched even further around his dick. Said organ gave an interested twitch.
Cas ignored it. "Laundry day," he finally replied. They stood in awkward silence, both attempting to construct a new escape route.
"Look, last night was fun," Dean started. "We should go out again sometime." He was clearly trying not to be the typical dick, but Castiel knew the one night stand script. He was supposed to say "Yeah absolutely." Write down his number. Maybe take Dean's. Then they'd each pray the other would never call.
"I don't think so," he responded bluntly. He didn't do scripts well. Dean stiffened at the tone. "Last night was fun," he agreed, trying to soothe Dean's ego, realizing too late how that sounded. "But, we both know it was just a one-time thing, right?" Dean looked a little wary, but nodded. "We just wanted a good time, we had it, no need to exchange phone numbers, or even last names. This was hot, but I don't do repeat performances."
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't known how to handle this particular one nighter. He wasn't usually so…wild. But his brother Sam had been sick of seeing him moping around after he'd found out Lisa was not only cheating on him, but had gotten pregnant by another dude and told him to just go crazy to try and reset. He grinned cheekily, feeling more at ease now that he knew this guy wasn't going to be trying to hook up again. "Well then I'll just have to hang on to these to remember you by."
He folded up the pumpkin colored boxers and stuffed them in his back pocket. Castiel's jaw just hung open in shock. "You can't keep my underwear!" he finally spluttered. Dean finished pulling on his t-shirt, cocking one eyebrow.
He sauntered up to Castiel, invading his personal space. Cas didn't flinch, or react at all, when Dean reached past him to grab his jacket off the desk behind him. "Watch me," he crooned into the dark-haired man's ear and bit the lobe. Castiel fought a shudder and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Dean was gone and he heard the rumbling of an engine fading into the distance.
It was two days since the acrobatics he'd participated in with Dean, and Castiel was still sore. It felt like he'd run fifteen miles with a stick in his ass doing push-ups and back flips the whole way. He grinned every time he remembered exactly which ache went with which activity. "You're disgusting," Gabriel groaned, flopping down in the seat next to Castiel.
"How do you mean?" Cas replied. He had a flash of panic that somehow his diminutive brother knew all of the things he had done, and had done to him, the other night. He wouldn't put it past the little fucker.
"Why in the hell would you sign up for and 8 am history course? You're on, what?, your third degree, and you still haven't figured out that morning classes freaking suck?"
"Fourth, and you don't have to take the same classes I do, Gabe," Cas said airily, a silent wave of relief flowing through him. It was the first day of the new semester, and he didn't want to spend it fighting off Gabriel's lewd questions and comments.
"Sure I do," Gabriel said, imitating Castiel's tone. "How else am I going to cheat off of you?" Castiel rolled his eyes. Gabriel just grinned. "So, I hear this new professor is hot!" Gabriel elbowed Cas in the ribs. "Think he bats for your team?"
Castiel shushed his shameless sibling, glancing around the mostly empty room. It was already 7:50, but there were only three other people in the lecture hall. It was a room set up to hold upwards of 150 students, and luckily Castiel and Gabriel were the only ones towards the front. "I'd like to keep my private life private, you ass," he hissed.
"Like anyone cares, Cassie." Gabe waved his hand dismissively, but thankfully continued at a softer volume. "But seriously, would you ever do the teacher? You know, 'I'll do anything for an A'." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Cas chuckled. "That is a violation of the ethics code, Gabriel. I believe the perception that one can get a better grade in exchange for intercourse is widely exaggerated."
"Could be. But if this guy is as fuckable as everyone says he is, I am not opposed to joining your team as a switch hitter." Cas snorted again at his brother's turn of phrase, then had to duck his head into his arms as Gabriel stood up and started gyrating behind the long table that served as a desk.
Castiel kept his head on the table, stifling the laughter bubbling out of him. He heard the door to the hall shut at exactly 8 am. "Switch hitter it is." Gabe let out a low whistle.
"Alright everyone, welcome to History of America at War. If you don't know what that means, you're probably in the wrong room so please leave. We will all mock you after you exit, but only for a minute. Promise." He knew that voice. Castiel tensed, but kept his head down, sending a quick prayer to whoever would listen that he was simply going quietly crazy by inserting that voice into his everyday life. "This is an upper level major requirement, so I expect everyone in here to be mature-" 'I'm in trouble' Gabe muttered. Me too, Castiel thought. "I hate the university's student portal, so any paperwork you need, I will have. Here are the syllabi. I hope by this point you all know how to read. Just take a look at the grading system and the important dates. The rest of it is stuff you've been seeing on syllabi your entire life. Can one of you gentlemen hand these out?"
They voice stopped directly in front of Castiel. He pretended he didn't hear the question, sending another prayer that Gabriel would volunteer. God must have been busy, or else he's a sick fuck. Gabriel didn't volunteer. "I would love to hand those out, professor, but my dick has a question I just can't answer right now. Maybe you could help me after class."
The class roared with laughter. That was definitely more than three people. Castiel hadn't realized more people had come in. He felt nauseated, the taste of bile heavy on his tongue. It wasn't nearly as pleasant as the taste of Dean's-no! Nononononono.
"You're not really my type, Mr…?"
"Novak. Gabriel Novak."
"Well Gabriel Novak, I would hate for you to admit your erection and then have no one here notice, so we'll spare you the judgment and just let you stay seated." More surprised laughter. Gabriel even joined in. "I do need these to get handed out though. Do you mind?" Castiel felt the warmth of that hand resting on his shoulder.
Castiel couldn't form a response. He just shook his head, careful to keep it lowered, and held out his hand for the stack of papers. "You ok?" the professor asked, concern coloring his tone. But Castiel had heard him say that before. Had heard that and so much more.
"Yeah," his voice broke on that one syllable. He sounded wrecked. The hand on his shoulder tightened, but Castiel couldn't tell if it was in surprise or disgust or both. Probably both. He winced.
"Castiel?" Oh, his name in that mouth. He wondered distantly what the rest of the class was seeing in this exchange. Were they seeing orange underwear and pink tongues and purple bruises and red rope burns from a blue tie that still hadn't completely faded? Could they see sweat shining on golden skin or pupils blown wide with need and lust in jade green eyes?
This is why Castiel drove two towns over and went to an old, small, secluded bar when he wanted to pick someone up. That's why he felt safe enough to use his real name. He did NOT see his hook ups again. He put the encounters in his spank bank for personal withdrawals, replaying the fun parts whenever he needed to. When he'd exhausted his behind-the-eyes movies, he went out again to start the whole process over. Single serving friends. Single serving fucks, that is what he dealt in. He didn't need people in his life to know that side of him.
Well, now he really was well and truly fucked. He let out the breath he'd forgotten he was holding. Castiel straightened his back and gathered as much of his wits as he could. He raised his eyes to meet the professor's. The man's hand was still on his shoulder. He took a deep breath.