Dean had an admirer in the form of a dark haired, pale faced teen with wide blue eyes, pink lips and, more often than not, cheeks adhered with a blush. He would see the kid twice a day walking to and from school, back pack slung over his shoulder, uniform spotlessly clean and neat.

The first time he walked past Dean's place of work, Singer Auto Repair, Dean had been on a break, supping a cold coke and holding his face up to the sun when he felt someone's gaze burning into him. He opened his eyes and met his onlooker with an unwavering stare. The kid had actually stopped walking just to gawk at Dean which he probably would have found weird or stalkerish in any other situation but the teenager had looked genuinely embarrassed for having been caught staring and had the uncanny appearance of a deer caught in headlights. He looked like he wanted to move but couldn't. It made Dean smirk. He quite liked the power he had over the kid. Ever the tease, Dean took a long swig from the bottle of coke and licked his lips lasciviously, smiling even wider when the teenager unconsciously mirrored the movement.

"Can I help you?" said a voice behind Dean.

The kid jumped like he had been electrocuted and darted off, tripping over his own feet at he went.

Dean clicked his tongue. "Aw, man, you chased him away," he complained, turning to look at Jo who was wiping grime from her face with an old rag.

"He's too young for you."

"He's at least sixteen," reasoned Dean.

Jo gave him a look and snatched the bottle out of his hand, taking a sip. "Like I said, he's too young for you."

Dean grimaced. "When did you turn into such a kill joy?"

"Same time you became a carnivore," she quipped. "Jeez, you were looking at that kid like he was a slab of meat."

"But that's what he is."


"Joke. It was a joke."

Jo leaned against the Chevy Dean had been working on. "If you want a twink go down to Pink."

Dean snorted. "That their slogan?"

"It ought to be."

"Nah, I'm good," said Dean, standing up and stretching. "I was just having a bit of fun that's all." He snagged the bottle back, drained the last dregs and lobbed into the nearest trash can with a burp. "Be surprised if he walks past here again after you growled at him, anyway."

"I didn't growl," said Jo, indignant.

Dean chuckled. "C'mon, move your ass so I can get back to work."

Only a few hours later to Dean's surprise, the kid passed by again, heading in the opposite direction. His hair wasn't as neat as it had been before, sticking up at odd angles. It made Dean want to push his fingers through it. He could imagine just how soft it would be.

Once again their eyes met but the teenager carried on this time without stopping. Feeling a little disappointed, Dean leaned against the hood of the car to watch him go. "Hey there," he called, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his lips into a confident smirk. He had to stifle a laugh at the full body jolt his exclamation caused. The kid was like a nervous cat. It was hilarious and kind of cute. "How you doing?" added Dean.

The kid hesitated, blushing fiercely, opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, stuttered out, "H-hello," and hurried away. Dean was grinning for the rest of the afternoon.

Over the next two weeks the same thing happened. The kid would walk past, their eyes would meet, Dean would say "hey" and the kid would blush and stutter out a greeting in return. As sad as it seemed, receiving those brief, embarrassed 'hellos' were Dean's favourite parts of the day.

Seeing that familiar shock of dark hair, blue eyes and blushed cheeks had him smiling and singing along to the radio as he worked. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" said Dean after glancing at Sam's disturbed expression.

He handed Dean a sandwich. "You're singing," stated Sam.

"Yeah," said Dean, unwrapping the foil and taking a huge bite. "So?" He chewed loudly without bothering to keep his mouth shut only because he knew how much it annoyed Sam.

"You don't sing. You can't sing."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I've got a day job then, huh?"

Sam scrunched up his face, scrutinizing him. "What's put you in such a good mood?"

"Nothing! Christ, can't a guy break into song any more?"

"Not when it's you."

"He's in love," interrupted Jo, grinning despite Dean's glare.

The suspicion on Sam's face morphed into genuine amusement. "Really?"

"No," sighed Dean. "I'm not."

"He is. And I'd be happy for him if his crush wasn't still in diapers."

"Ew, Dean, gross, how old is he?" said Sam.

"He's at least sixteen," insisted Dean. "That's not exactly diaper wearing age, is it?"

"Wait, so he's still at high school?" questioned Sam. "Which one does he go to?"

"Not yours if that's what you're thinking," said Dean. "He wears a uniform."

"Looks posh too," said Jo.

"Oh, it must be Milton High." Sam frowned. "But that's like an hour away from here. Surely he's not walking there and back every day?"

"Who knows," said Jo with a shrug. "Dean don't forget that oil change for Mrs. Fynne's Toyota."

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement but there was a swirl of unease in his stomach. What if the kid really did have to walk that far?

Two days later on a sunny Thursday afternoon he saw the teenager again and grinned, preparing to greet him, but noticed that he wasn't walking alone. He was with another kid who was shorter with longish brown hair and a wicked grin. The dark haired teen didn't look at him once, staring fixedly at the floor and talking to his friend.

Dean sighed, turning back to the engine with reluctance. Leering at one teenager was risky but any more than that and he'd get himself a reputation. Still he wished –

A piercing wolf whistle caused him to crack his head on the hood of the car. Scowling and rubbing the sore spot, he turned to find the brown haired teenager grinning.

"My friend thinks you're sexy!" he called.

Dean's brow rose. His gaze moved to the kid beside him, Dean's crush, who looked like he wanted the pavement to swallow him whole. He was tugging at the grinning teenager's arm, face the brightest red Dean had ever seen.

It was fucking adorable.

Unable to help himself, Dean smiled. "That so?"

"Yup. He's Castiel and I'm Gabriel."

So, his name was Castiel.


Definitely not what Dean had been expecting but what did it matter? He finally had a name to put to the gorgeous face. Castiel. It was a bit of a tongue tier. He stared at the dark haired teen and rechristened him Cas.

"What's yours?" said Gabriel when Dean didn't answer.

"And why should I tell you?" asked Dean, smirking. He liked the kid's confidence but standing next to Cas he was barely a blip on the map.

"Cause he needs something to scream when he jerks off over you."

Dean's stomach jolted and, even at the distance they were at – a good few meters – he still heard Cas's quick intake of breath.

"Gabriel!" gasped the teenager in a surprisingly gravelly voice absolutely made for graphic phone sex. Gabriel only chuckled and let himself get dragged away by Castiel.

The next day Dean was actually excited to see Castiel and use his name for the first time but to his vast disappointment, the teenager didn't show. The afternoon passed, then a day, then another day until eventually a week passed and still there was no sign of him or his friend.

That afternoon while Dean finished up early, about half an hour before the time Castiel usually walked by, it began to rain, spitting at first and then building into a crashing crescendo of thunder, lightning and heavy down pour.

Dean peered up at the sky on his way home, wind screen wipers washing torrents of water off the glass.

What if Cas had to walk home in this?

Would offering a ride home be creepy?

Dean thought about it for all of five seconds and then rolled his eyes. He was twenty-two not sixty and Cas wasn't a ten year old school boy. And even if there was a massive age gap, there's nothing wrong in offering a ride home.

With that in mind, Dean spun the car around and headed in the direction of Milton High. He only knew where it was because he'd used Google Maps to try and figure out how far Castiel had to walk. Now that was creepy but he didn't think about it too much. Thankfully that particular secret was between him, Google and his browser history.

Because of the downpour the streets were completely empty and when he reached the school there was no one around.

Maybe Castiel had been given a ride home after all.

Trying not to feel too miserable about missing the kid, he headed back, choosing a different route to the one he had arrived in and he was glad he did because he immediately spotted Castiel's blue and black backpack on the shoulders of a hunched figure trudging through the rain.

Heart pounding, he slowed down and when he was in line with the teenager he honked the horn.

Castiel leapt out of skin, which was no surprise, and whipped his head around in alarm. His mouth dropped open as his eyes landed on Dean.

Winding down the window, Dean beat down the urge to grin and offered a confident, "Need a ride?" instead.

Castiel was breathing heavily. He bit his lip and looked around while he deliberated. Finally, with a single nod Castiel walked over to the passenger side and slid into the car. As soon as the door closed with a thunk, a strange tension emerged within the confines of the Impala. He could smell Cas's rain dampened hair and clothes.

Dean's skin flushed with heat. "So, uh, where to?"

Incredibly gorgeous blue eyes met his and Dean swallowed. Up close, Castiel was even more attractive than he had originally thought. He was utterly beautiful. His dark hair was sticking up at the front where he must have pushed a hand through it to keep it out of the way, his cheeks were tinged pink, his eyes bright, lips shiny from the rain and... his shirt was soaked through and virtually transparent. He could see Castiel's nipples, hard under the slick material.

Castiel shifted in his seat and Dean tore his gaze away to meet the teenager's wide eyes. "Um, 162 Greenway Drive," he mumbled and then tagged on, "Please."


Christ, Dean could think of more than enough things he'd want Cas to plead for but that wasn't the best direction for his thoughts to head in. He needed to focus on something else. Like dead puppies and kittens. Something less boner inducing. Definitely not the shape of Castiel's lips or his rain wet skin or how it would taste under his tongue.

Damn it!

With mind blowing effort, he concentrated on the road. The rain pounded on all sides of the car making visibility next to impossible and giving the illusion of privacy, as though they were secreted away, utterly alone together and with the streets being empty, they practically were. It did nothing to quell the strange tension that only seemed to be building by the second.

Dean's stomach was doing somersaults. He could hear Castiel's uneasy breaths over the muted ACDC playing in the background. From the corner of his eye he could see Castiel watching him, trying to be surreptitious about it and failing. He heard a rustle and noticed Cas had pulled his school bag into his lap.

"I'm Dean by the way," he said, in an attempt to break the silence.

He looked over at his passenger after receiving no answer and found Castiel's eyes glued to Dean's chest. Confused, Dean glanced down, expecting to see food stains or something worth staring at but there was nothing, just his chest. He was still in his work clothes, his blue overall unzipped to the waist with a black wife-beater underneath. There wasn't much to see but Castiel seemed enthralled.

Dean cleared his throat. "Uh, so you go to Milton High?"

The question seemed to snap the kid back to reality. He fidgeted again, tugging at the sleeves of his uniform. "Yes, I..." He took a breath. "Yes."

Dean smiled in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. "Like it?"

Castiel licked his lips. "Y-yes, I do," he replied, eyes continuously flicking to Dean's face, body and back again.

"That's good," he murmured. At the traffic lights Castiel twisted and tried to tug at the seat belt to put it on but he was pulling it too fast and it refused to move.

"Here," said Dean, reaching over to help him with it. As he did, the teenager froze. Dean could feel his breath tickling the side of his face. Their eyes caught and all of a sudden it became shockingly intimate.

Heat pooled low in Dean's abdomen. He dragged his eyes away, gently pulled the belt over Cas's chest, the damp material of the teenager's shirt brushed his fingers and Castiel shivered.

"Are you, uh, cold?" said Dean, his voice cracking, clicking the belt into place.

Castiel licked his lips again and shook his head.

At the green light, Dean sat back heavily in his seat, resisting the urge to palm is growing erection. Cas smelled good, real good. The air was thick with his scent and the strange electrical current that had his nerves stretched tight and his heart beating fast.

Without his permission his mind was producing image after image of the most obscene and graphic scenarios imaginable, of fucking Cas and his tight ass. In his mind's eye he could just imagine bending him over the Impala, fingering him open, making him all nice and wet with his tongue and then sliding his dick in inch by inch. He'd fuck him hard. Make sure he felt it the next day while he was sitting in class.

Dean bit his lip, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Now that he had started to think about it, he couldn't stop. He was flooded with thoughts and images and fantasies so pornographic he wished he could record them then play them back to his heart's content on a widescreen TV with surround sound. High definition. He'd want to see it, see the pink of his ass stretched tight around Dean's cock and he'd want to hear Cas moan and plead and beg for more. How would Cas's lips feel wrapped around his cock? That pink tongue slipping out to lick the head, blushing while he suckled on it.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that when he heard a gasp that sounded extremely close to a moan, his body jerked as much as his cock did.

He looked over at Castiel. The teenager was staring at Dean's lap or, more specifically, his rock hard dick that work clothes were stretching to confine.

His gaze lifted to Castiel's suddenly dark eyes, flushed cheeks and parted lips. He looked like he'd just been fucked and not about to be fucked.

About to be fucked? What the hell?

Dean mentally slapped himself. He wasn't going to fuck Castiel. He wasn't going to –

A trembling hand grazed his knee.

Dean inhaled sharply, glancing at the hand moving up his thigh. He stared at it and then at Castiel who was still blushing furiously, eyes nervous but underneath that, laced with want and lust. His bag was on the floor now by his feet and Dean was able to see Cas's erection, tenting up his pants.

"Fuck," hissed Dean. He turned down the nearest street and slammed on the brakes. Just as Castiel's hand was about to reach his cock, Dean grabbed his wrist. "How old are you?" he asked, breathing hard.

"I'm, I'm eighteen next week," gasped Castiel.

Dean nodded. "Good enough for me," he said and stabbed a finger into the seat belt release, whipping it out the way, and dragged Castiel without preamble into his lap. The teen naturally straddled him and as Dean grasped the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss, Castiel let out a shocked little gasp, hips grinding and stuttering against Dean's.

Cas kissed him back like he was starving, lips pushing, sliding, sucking. Dean licked into his mouth, his free hand wrapping around Castiel's waist, squeezing his ass and tugging him closer, tight against his chest. The teenager moaned, hands grasping at Dean's chest, cock hot and heavy and grinding against Dean's.

The friction, feel and weight of Cas was incredible. He was desperate, clinging to Dean, his tongue hot in his mouth, fingers in his hair.
Dean stripped off Castiel's blazer and lifted up his shirt, slipping his hand down the back of the teenager's pants to grope his ass. The material was too restrictive though so he pulled back a just enough to slip the button and slide the zipper.

Dean sucked on Castiel's tongue, using both hands to yank down the annoying items of clothing, including Cas's underwear, to his thighs. The teenager's hard cock bobbed between them, drooling pre-come.

Clenching the hand that was threaded through Castiel's dark hair at the back of his head, Dean tugged, forcing the teenager to look him in the eye. He rubbed a finger along the crack of Castiel's ass with his other hand, circling a finger over the dry hole. "You ever had anything up there?"

There was a beat of silence, only their heavy breaths filling the car, the windows completely steamed up, when Castiel croaked, "Yes."
Dean's brows rose. His eyes flicked down to Castiel's lips for a moment. "What?"

"My...my fingers."

Fuck. Dean could imagine that. He could see him on his bed laid out, naked, fingering himself open. "Nothing else?"

Castiel shook his head.

Pausing to think for a second, Dean fumbled with the glove compartment until it sprang open. He blindly felt around for the small bottle of lube that he knew was in there and, once he got hold of it, squirted a good amount onto his fingers. He drew Cas closer, tight against his body, his cock pressing into Dean's stomach.

They breathed each other's air as Dean rubbed gently with one finger at the teenager's hole. He played, breaching the rim and pulling out again with his index finger and watched how Castiel's face changed. His eyes were hooded and his breaths shaky.

"That good?" murmured Dean.

Castiel nodded quickly and then whispered, "More."

Dean ran a tongue along Cas's jaw and slipped in another finger, the second made the teenager moan, but he didn't move them, he kept them there until Castiel started to rock back and forth, urging him on.

"Lift your hips," breathed Dean, using his other hand to take hold of Castiel's leaking cock. "Come on..." He licked the sensitive shell of his ear. "Get yourself off."

Castiel's breathing hitched but did as he was told, rising and falling on Dean's fingers, slow at first, while Dean jerked him off.

"That's it," murmured Dean with approval. He was staring into Cas's darkened eyes as he said it, their gazes locked. "That's it. Do you like that?"

Castiel licked his lips and nodded. His ass was tight, hot and wet around Dean's fingers, slipping over his digits, up and down, smoothly. Dean was so hard it hurt, his cock was begging for release, he could probably come in a couple of strokes but there was no way he was giving up the position he was in. Watching Cas half dressed, still in his uniform and flushed pink with arousal as he rode Dean's fingers, thrusting his cock up into the tunnel of his hand, was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

"You like fucking yourself on my fingers?" asked Dean.

The teenager nodded again, breaths falling in harsh pants now, chest heaving as he picked up pace, using his hand on Dean's shoulder for support.

"Say it," demanded Dean, kissing his neck. "I wanna hear you say it..."

"I..." panted Castiel. "I..."

Dean leaned back to watch those lewd words spill from his lips. He speeded up the strokes on Castiel's cock, kept his eyes on the teenagers face. "Say it..." he whispered.

"I like f-fucking myself on your fingers," gasped Castiel.

Dean's tongue slipped into Cas's mouth and he shoved his fingers up harder into his ass, touching a sensitive place inside Castiel that made him cry out. Dean pushed in again, harder, and again and again, drawing out delicious noises from the teenager until, with a swipe of his thumb over the head of Castiel's cock and a couple of firm strokes, he came hard. Cas's mouth fell open, his eyes squeezed shut as coated Dean's hand and stomach in warm come.

He was gorgeous, absolutely beautiful.

Castiel fell on to Dean, his sweaty forehead pressed into his neck, while he dipped into Dean's overalls and wrapped his fingers around his painfully hard dick. It took exactly three jerks to reach his orgasm, messing up his destroyed wife-beater with a hell of a lot more come.

Dean pulled Castiel's pants back up and they sat like that for awhile, in each other's arms, waiting for their breaths to slow. He tried not to think too much about how Jo was going to react to him wanting to date Castiel but, on the other hand, Castiel was older than they had both thought so, really, it wasn't any of her business.

Didn't mean she wasn't going to bitch slap him though.

To Dean's amazement, it was Castiel who broke the comfortable silence. "I already knew your name," he murmured into Dean's neck.

"You did?"

"Mm, I heard someone call to you while I was walking past."

"Huh." He paused. "Where'd you go?"

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't see you for a week. Where'd you go?" asked Dean.

"Oh..." Dean could feel Castiel's face heat against his skin. "I...took a different route to school."

Dean frowned, tilting his head to get Castiel to look at him. "Why?" he asked when those big blue eyes met his.

"I was embarrassed... after what Gabriel said."

Dean chuckled. "Cas, you've just let me finger your ass and you're telling me you didn't have the balls to walk past the garage after a comment like that?"

Castiel flushed beet red. "That's different," he muttered.

"How is it?" laughed Dean.

"I wasn't...I'm..." He fidgeted in Dean's lap, plucking at a loose thread on Dean's top. "When I'm ... in the mood... I'm fractionally more confident."

"You mean, when your horny you turn into a sexual fiend?"

Castiel sighed but smiled when he saw the blatant amusement on Dean's face.

Dean pushed his fingers through Cas's dark hair. He really was gorgeous. "So... can I give you a ride tomorrow?"

"Y-you mean...?" stuttered Castiel.

"No! No," said Dean quickly, chuckling. "I meant, I could take you to school or take you home or whatever."

Cas tilted his head. "Why?"

"Why? Because I like you and I want to see you again."

Castiel smiled sheepishly. "You do?"

Dean rolled his eyes. How could Castiel possibly think that he wouldn't want to see him again? He didn't even want to let him out of the car. "Definitely," he said and kissed his forehead.