Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13784496.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel_&_Dean_Winchester, Castiel/OMC
  Character:
      John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Bobby_Singer, Castiel_
      (Supernatural), Dick_Roman
  Additional Tags:
      Wing_Kink, Wings, Teen_Dean_Winchester, Teen_Sam_Winchester, Teen_Castiel
      (Supernatural), Teen_Romance, Foster_Care, Child_Abuse, Forced
      Prostitution, Underage_Prostitution, Good_Parent_John_Winchester,
      Annoying_Sam_Winchester, Awesome_Dean_Winchester, Broken_Castiel, Castiel
      Whump, Castiel/OMCs_-_Freeform, Stuttering, Cas_has_a_stutter
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-24 Updated: 2018-02-25 Chapters: 18/? Words: 17291
****** A Wing and a Prayer ******
by Hells_Brat
Summary
     Originally posted on LJ. I found all my notes and have every
     intention on finishing it.
      
     Winged!Castiel, no younger than 15, has lost his family, and he goes
     into the foster system and gets put with a human couple. They treat
     him more like an accessory than a child, and they start whoring him
     out to people with wing fetishes.
     The town in general believes that the winged people are secretive and
     stuck up, so when the new kid, Castiel, shows up at school, he is the
     subject of bullying and gossip. Dean, on the other hand, thinks that
     Castiel is gorgeous, and is just worried that Castiel wouldn't want
     to be around someone like him. He takes the jump and manages a
     friendship.
     Castiel really likes Dean, but is worried about what he'd think if he
     knew what he's forced to do at home. Eventually, Dean finds out and
     is horrified, and he helps Cas get away from his foster family.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Castiel sat on the edge of the full sized bed, chewing fretfully on his bottom
lip. His body shivered from the chill of being underdressed and underfed. He
huddled into himself and wiped away the tears that had collected in the corners
of his pretty blue eyes, leaving them red and irritated. He hoped that petting
would be the only thing that was expected of him this time; it was the least
objectionable of all the options.
Life hadn’t always like this for him but he didn’t like to think back that far.
That unspoiled life where he was loved and cared for no longer belonged to him,
hadn’t belonged to him since his parents died. Once, his parent’s had shielded
him from the cruel, gawking world and its lack of tolerance for anything
different, anything that it didn't comprehend. But in the now, he was just
another winged freak left orphaned and alone to fend for himself against all
the preconceived misconceptions his brand of freakish novelty always seemed to
attract.
He closed his eyes as he began to concentrate on the task of turning himself
into desirable merchandise, once again. The words of Russ, his foster father,
ran in a mechanical loop through his head.
Quit your sniveling and get those wings up, boy. That’s what they’re paying
for...
Slowly, his wings began to unfold and open high and proud upon his back. Stiff
and achy from having been so long hidden away from the world, he flapped them
several times to work out the kinks. The downy brown and white feathers
fluttered against his skin, tickling at the smooth flesh of his back.
He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the doorknob turn and click as the
door fell open, exposing him and his wings. Castiel didn't bother to turn his
head. He knew what he was there for. The who in the equation didn’t much make a
difference.
“Didn't I tell ya he was something?”
It was the same the rough, unyielding voice that ran through his head and
through most of his nightmares. His foster father slash pimp gave one final
warning before shutting the bedroom door. “Castiel, you be good, you hear?”
Castiel had always been a good boy, always did what he was told, seldom caused
a fuss and tried to stay out of Russ and Fran’s way as much as he could but
none of that ever mattered. No matter how good he was at living under the
constraints of their demands he always ended up in the same place, with him
entertaining some stranger in what once had been the sanctuary of his bed.
The brutal looking solid mass of naked stranger hovered at the edge of his bed,
leering lustily at the teenager and his wings, drinking in the sight of his
prey.
“Such pretty wings you have.” The man’s breathing was heavy and his gravelly
voice was thick with lust, erasing any doubt that tonight’s menu would offer up
more than just petting.
 
 
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
02 - Re: Request: Dean/Castiel, OMCs/Castiel, wings, non-con, rescue
(Anonymous)
2013-02-14 09:58 pm (local)
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The man wasted no time, reaching out to stroke the boy’s feathers with the tips
of his fingers. The stimulation sent a warm wave of electricity, lighting up a
path straight down to Castiel’s cock. Castiel looked down at his lap cursed his
body for responding to the unwanted yet arousing touch. He shut his eyes tight,
trying to will away the pleasure that was mounting underneath his skin. These
moments were always so confusing for him. His whole body tensed, his brain
cried out, pleading for him to either pull away or lean in, urging the stranger
for more. His breath hitched and a moan escaped from his lips. It wasn’t his
fault, really. His wings had been so damn sensitive lately that even feeling a
breeze against them could and would send his cock into a state of instant
arousal. He prayed he would grow out of that soon.
Taking the boy’s moan as a green light of mounting desire, the strange man
continued on with his ministrations, taking it up a notch, grinding his stiff,
exposed cock against the soft feathers with a long, lusty groan.
“Mmm. So good. So good.”
The stranger positioned the boy on his side, placing him in a better angle for
what he had in mind. Cas’s wings flapped, his feathers quivered against the
stranger’s burly arms while the stranger’s thick fingers stroked the warm skin
laid out before him. Tracing down the long lines of the wings, the boy let out
another low moan of approval. The strange fingers moved down the now mewling
boy’s spine, lower and lower still until they found their way to the crack of
the boy’s ass. Cas wriggled against the incisive fingers, his body flushed pink
with need while the strange man rubbed against the tight, twitching little
hole.
“Please…Please…” Cas whined as he pushed back harder against the stranger and
he covered his face with the crook of his arm as the tears of his want and
shame threatened to flood from his eyes.
“Mmm. You’re just a hot little slut, aren’t you, boy? I sure do like that.”
The boy moaned and ground himself impatiently against the strange cock, urging
him on as the man began to work his way inside of the all too eager boy.
+++
Russ stood in the doorway, his cold eyes scanned the body of his lewdly spread,
fucked out foster son lying on the disheveled bed. The boy's sweat-matted wings
trembled slowly coming down from the sex high like a dying butterfly as the
thick, milky trail of cum slipped slowly from the boy’s hole and down his
splayed thighs. Russ smirked in satisfaction, safe in the knowledge he just
nabbed another repeat customer.
Russ cleared his throat, rousing Castiel out of his daze. “Go clean yourself
up, boy. You got another one waiting on you.”
With a groan, Cas rolled himself off of the bed and stumbled on too weak legs
toward the door. He received a growl and swift whack to his ass as he squeezed
his too thin frame past Russ, who didn’t bother to move out of the way.
“Hurry up there. C’mon! Get that ass moving.”
“Yes, Sir.” Cas mumbled and gave Russ a slight nod. He picked up the pace, not
looking to get hit again, and he headed down the hall toward the bathroom. He
wondered silently just how many more of these "ones" Russ had waiting for him
this time and just how much more of this life he could take. His only comfort
was that the weekend was coming to an end and he’d be left untouched and
ignored until the following weekend, where the hellish cycle would begin itself
all over again.
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Cas and Dean meet.
“C’mon, D! We’re late. We’re gonna get detention again.”
 
Sam stood at the front door of the two story, beige bricked building, glaring
warily at his brother and rightly so; Dean couldn't be trusted to actually
enter the building, even when he was standing right in front of it. Now,
getting him to spend the entire six hours in the educational establishment was
another story altogether.
Dean rolled his eyes as he trudged his way into the building. “So? Where you
gotta be, anyway? You can’t go anywhere without me, little bro. I’m the driver
and I got the keys.”
Dean yawned, watching as Sam blazed on ahead of him, turning the corner toward
the junior high school section of the building.
There’s something wrong with that kid.
No one should be that excited for anything at such a ridiculous hour,
especially something as stupid as school. Dean shook his head wearily and made
his way to the second floor and stopped at his locker. Searching his sleep
deprived brain, he tried to remember what class he was supposed to be in and
what book he needed.
He checked his watch again and sighed. Time sure moved slow when you wanted to
go. He still had a few hours to kill before his Dad fell back into a sound
enough sleep that he could cut out and sneak back to the house unnoticed. Damn
old houses with their paper thin walls and their creaky wood floors. All he
wanted was to kick back for a bit and maybe watch a little Mork and Mindy on
channel 57 before having to pick up Sammy.
John never slept real good in the rundown places they so often found themselves
staying in and Dean had zero interest in losing car privileges again. Though,
he supposed the lectures on being responsible, on being the role model for
Sammy, were worse. He was no role model, not when it came to school or school
like things that was for sure. He was only biding his time with the school
thing until he could find the right moment to tell his dad he was done with it
for good. The only flaw in his plan was there never seemed to be a good time.
His old man had enough on his plate with Sammy and his brand new pre-teenage
angst-filled attitude. He didn’t want to give his father one more thing to
stress about.
 
Glancing nervously over his shoulder with his books pressed tight to his chest,
the dark haired boy never saw Dean step away from his locker. The two boys
crashed head first into each other, books falling to the floor.
“S-sorry. S-sorry. My f-fault.” The kid mumbled, never lifting his eyes.
“No worries. Nothing broken.” Dean bent down to scoop up his notebook.
“L-let m-me…” The kid bent down too, his head colliding against Dean’s.
Dean grimaced from the unexpected headbutt but and glanced at the name scrawled
into the book cover. The handwriting appeared as shaky as the kid. He held the
book awkwardly out for the boy with an understanding smile.
“Here. Don’t forget this one, uh, Castiel.”
The kid reached out with a shaky hand and took the book from Dean. He muttered
one more apology before taking off down the hall.
Yep, I’m done for the day.
 
When Dean returned to the school, Sam was not at the designated meeting spot.
He slammed his fist on the dashboard and stepped out of the car.
Seriously gonna kill that kid.
He headed into the building, looking cautiously around. Dean wanted to get the
hell out of there as fast as possible.The halls had mostly emptied out of
students but the occasional teacher still wandered by.
He found Sam kneeling down on the floor in front of his locker, searching his
backpack.
“C’mon, let’s go, Sammy.” he grunted.
“Wait, D. I gotta go back. I forgot my book.”
“Make it quick.”
He was still on high alert, ducking his face every time he heard footsteps
coming down the hall. Every second he waited for Sammy threatened his freedom
and he wasn’t in any kind of mood to be reprimanded in case one his teachers
saw him as they were leaving for the day.
With a huff, Dean turned to look go look for Sam, just as one boy rounded the
corner running past him. Two more followed moments after. The first boy, a dark
haired blur ended up trapped, his escape thwarted by the row of fire engine red
lockers at the end of the long hallway. He leaned himself against the lockers,
trying to catch his breath as the bullies closed in, surrounding him. It was
the kid, Castiel from earlier that morning. He looked terrified, a wild animal
searching for a way out.
The tall kid moved in, towering over Castiel, a menacing look upon his face.
“Looks like you don’t hear so good. We don’t want your kind around here.”
 
“Yeah. Go back to where you came from, freak show.” The kid shouted. He
reminded Dean of a teapot, short and round with a buzz cut and bad skin. He was
definitely going through that awkward stage but Dean doubted he’d ever grow out
of it.
Dean had seen enough. This would only turn out bad for the much smaller
Castiel.
He walked toward the scene. He hated bullies. He’d taken care of his share of
assholes in the past, not that he was someone to be fucked with but he had
taken on many a fight in defense of Sammy. The kid was an easy target, smaller
than most and much geekier, for sure but Dean did not tolerate anyone picking
on his little bro. Castiel reminded him of Sam, not in looks or nothing but it
was his shy, awkward demeanor, one of a kid out of place, out of his element.
That was just the kind of thing that tugged at Dean’s heart.
“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone that can kick your ass?”
The tall kid stepped back from the cowering boy and turned his attention toward
Dean. “This here ain’t none of your business.”
“Not the way I see it.” Dean stared back at the tall kid, not intimidate in the
least.
“And what are you gonna do?”
“Enough that your parent’s won’t be able to identify the body.” He smirked. It
wasn’t an idle threat, the tall boy could see that Dean meant every word.
The tall boy backed down slightly, hoping to form an alliance. “I know you…”
“Don't think you do. Leave the kid alone if you know what’s good for you.”
“You got a hard on for freaks or something?”
“Maybe so. They’re sure better than assholes.”
“Whatever.” Tall boy scoffed and gestured to his chubby buddy. "Let's get outta
here."
Before scattering off, the chubby kid knocked the books from Castiel’s hand.
Dean shook his head.
What a douche.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Dean bent down to help pick up the books that had fallen from Catiel's hand.
“We really need to stop meeting like this.”
Castiel scrambled to collect his things. His voice was soft and shaky. “It…
it’s okay…it’s okay…I-I got it.”
Dean offered his hand and helped the kid up off his knees, the kid’s big blue
eyes at last came into Dean’s view. “T-thanks.”
Dean scratched at the hole in his jeans as his eyes took the in kid. A mop of
dark, wavy hair and crazy blue eyes the color of a summer sky with full pouty,
lips he could almost feel wrapped around his dick.
Fuck, the kid was something.
 
He cleared his throat with a cough, turning his gaze to the crooked pep rally
poster across from him. He needed to get thoughts like that out of his head.
“Sucks being picked on, huh?”
Castiel shrugged uneasily, his eyes cast off to the side. “M-most of the t-time
it sucks j-just b-being.”
Dean couldn’t help frown at the kid’s heartbreaking honesty. He sighed,
understanding the sentiment all too well. “Ain’t that the truth?”
Castiel glanced up at the big black clock perched high up on the wall and the
color drained from his face. “Oh no! I-I have t-to g-go… T-they’ll be home s-
soon and I-I haven’t…”
He began to tremble, it was subtle but it made Dean wonder if Castiel was
always so nervous.
“Don’t worry about it. I can drive you home.”
“You d-don’t…”
Dean smiled at the shaky kid, trying to put him at ease. “It’s no problem,
really.”
Castiel sat quietly in the passenger seat, gazing out the window.
The two brothers began to squabble again, rousing him from his thoughts. It was
a nice enough distraction from the usual, lonely walk home he made every day.
“You walk this every day? It’s so far.” Sam asked, pushing his face in between
the front seats.
Dean flashed a dirty look in the rearview mirror. “Sammy, sit back and mind
your business.”
Castiel forced a smile. He didn’t want anyone else pitying him today. “It…it’s
n-not s-so b-bad w-when t-the w-weather is n-nice.”
“Why doesn’t Dean just drive you home? Huh, Dean? You can drive Cas home after
school, can’t you?” Sam tilted his head, waiting impatiently for an answer.
“N-no. I c-couldn’t…” Cas protested shaking his head. “You sh-shouldn’t b-other
yourself w-with m-me.”
“It’s not like he’s got anything better to do.” Sam smiled sweetly, teasing his
brother.
“It’d be no problem, really." Then he joked, "We gotta drive nowhere near here
to get home.”
“It…it’s t-the grey house on t-the l-left.” Cas sat up a little straighter,
pulling his books close.
They pulled up to the house in time to see a woman standing in the driveway,
pulling grocery bags out of the trunk of her car. The woman stopped what she
was doing and stood up, suspiciously eyeing on the large black car pulling up
to the house.
Castiel tensed and hurried to get out of the car. “T-thanks f-for t-the ride.”
 
From the top of the steps the slight, mousy woman scowled at Castiel with her
hands on her hips.
“Castiel! Hurry up and get the rest of the groceries in that house. If you
don’t have enough work around here, I’m sure we could find something to keep
you busy...”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He looked back into the car at Dean, embarrassment flooding his
cheeks.
“Hey. You gonna be okay?” Dean asked, genuinely concerned.
Castiel nodded but his face was grim.
“Yeah. okay. See ya tomorrow then.” Dean nodded, not quite believing him.
As he drove away, Dean could hear his new friend apologizing profusely as he
hurried into the house after the harsh, scowling woman. .
***** Chapter 4 *****
He had known what was coming to him the minute he walked through the front
door, carrying the remainder of the grocery bags. Fran never bothered to hide
her disdain for him.
She and Russ had never really wanted Castiel. Not for any of the right reasons,
at least. They were quite content with their child-free existence but when Russ
lost his job a few years back, having to take a more menial one, They needed a
way to supplement the loss in income. It was then they learned how much
fostering could bring in. And when Russ learned just how special their new
charge was a light bulb went off and he saw dollar signs dancing around his
foster son’s head. With the right connections, in just one weekend alone He
could very well triple what the state was paying him. It was their path to easy
street. No longer would they worry about money. They could pay off their
mortgage in no time, and be able to afford the little luxuries that made them
the envy of their friends, once again.
They would have to keep up appearances, of course. They couldn’t quit their
jobs or anything like that. No one could ever know that a model couple such as
Russ and Fran were whoring out the beautiful freak they appeared to be so
lovingly saving.
It wasn’t any surprise to him when he realized he was unwanted. It wasn’t
something they were exactly shy about, in private. In public though, they
appeared the perfect family, made The Cosby’s look like The Manson’s. It was a
game he had to learn to play and he had better play it well.
When Russ and Fran had chosen him He was just happy someone had wanted him that
it didn’t matter to him their smiles never quite reached their eyes.
 
Castiel stood with his head bowed, awaiting the inevitable chastisement from
his foster mother. He knew he was in big trouble but he didn’t care, at least
not yet he didn’t. Someone had finally stood up for him, finally been nice to
him. Maybe he even made a friend? He could barely remember what having one of
those felt like.
Fran sneered at him. “What were you doing all afternoon that kept you from your
housework? You selling that slutty ass of yours on the side?”
“N-no. Ma’am. N-no. I… had t-to s-stay late. Had t-to m-make up a t-test.” It
was only a half lie but it wasn’t like telling the whole truth would garner him
any sympathy. Truth, lies they all ended the same way, only the severity
differed depending on the whim on his foster parents.
“Getting in trouble at school, too? You’re racking up quite the list of
offences today, aren’t you? I sure wouldn’t want to be that backside of yours
when Russ gets home.” Fran’s distaste for her charge was all too apparent in
the grin upon her face.
Castiel groaned internally and hurried toward the kitchen, not wanting to incur
any more infractions.
But Fran moved quickly, blocking him as he tried to get passed her. She snaked
her hand down the back of his shirt. Her long fingers gripped some feathers
firmly down by the root and yanked hard, plucking them from the boy’s skin. The
sudden, vicious act caused Castiel to yelp, tears glassing over his eyes.
She shook her head in disgust and rubbed her hands together, letting his
feathers fall to the carpet.
“And you can forget about dinner tonight. Breakfast, too. You can use that time
to think about your behavior.”
 
Castiel looked down miserably at his fallen feathers and wiped away his tears
before entering the kitchen, freeing himself from Fran and her scornful gaze.
The good feeling’s never seemed to last but a moment for him and why should
they? He didn't deserve good things, been told that all too often enough. He
was nothing but a fucked up freak, a winged orphan whore, to be used by anyone
with the right amount of cash in their pocket.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Dean turned over on his bed and stared out the window. He was so freaking
bored. Weekends when his dad had to work were the worst and they weren’t
exactly in walking distance to anything noteworthy. Not that he was lazy, he’d
walk for hours if it would lead him to something that would hold his interest
but the rain had been coming down in buckets all day and he just didn’t feel
like dealing with that.
When he stumbled down for breakfast earlier, Sammy was eating his cereal in
front of the TV watching some old Kung Fu movie marathon. The sounds could
still be heard through his door. Any other time he’d suck it up and join the
kid but he had a lot on his mind and didn’t feel up for the company of his kid
brother.
Running his hand over the short military style buzz haircut, he wished his hair
would grow a little more quickly. Maybe if he got himself something like Grow
Quick, that plant growing miracle stuff he kept seeing commercials for… Yeah,
he was NOT acting like himself that was for sure.
When he caught himself checking himself in the bathroom mirror before school he
realized he had a problem. He didn’t groom. Dean Winchester was no “primper”.
He had never spent more than 3 minutes on getting dressed in the morning but
now he found himself hemming and hawing over what he was going to wear that
day. None of the clothes in his closet felt impressive enough anymore. The
permanent stains on his jeans or the odd hole in one of his plaid flannel
shirts just made him feel like a loser when he was sitting next to Cas, whose
clothes were nicer than his, almost too nice for someone their age to wear to
school. The little alligators and the horses on the breast of his sweaters and
neatly pressed khakis attested to that. Dean’s jeans had never even met an iron
before.
There was even a brief moment where he had almost asked his dad to buy him some
new clothes. A request that he never made even when his shirts were coming
apart at the seams or his jeans became too tight or too short due to sudden
growth spurts.
What was it about Cas that turned him into this?
Cas was making him crazy. It had never taken Dean so long to get in someone's
pants before. Be it boy or girl, with his looks and charm most people would
have already given up the goods and he’d be on to the next. He saw the way Cas
looked at him when he didn’t think Dean was noticing. It confirmed he wasn’t
barking up the wrong tree. So why wasn’t he sticking his dick into the kid yet?
There was something else he couldn’t stop wondering about. In the two weeks
that Dean had known Cas, there were a few things didn’t make sense to him. Cas
never seemed to want to go anywhere. Ever. Straight home from school on
weekdays and every time Dean had invited him to hang out on the weekends he
always had an excuse. Once or twice when he did agree to go somewhere after
school, only after a great amount of urging on Dean’s part, he spent the whole
time anxiously watching the time and he never had any money. Not even for a
snack or to play a video game.
It was starting to make Dean damn curious. But there were just some things he
didn't want to say in front of Sammy and Sammy was always around. Eventually,
he knew he'd get Cas alone. There was a half day coming up for some teacher’s
conference and he wasn’t going to let that opportunity go to waste.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Across town Castiel was spending his Saturday the only way he was allowed. Big,
wrinkled fingers twisted in the dark waves as the boy’s head bobbed up and down
massaging the growing cock in his mouth while the other hand gently fondled the
tips of the wings spread open before him. The stranger sat back and let him do
all the work for a change, taking pleasure in the warm wet mouth wrapped around
the meaty shaft as the boy’s soft pink tongue glided up and down.
The man began thrusting deep and quick into his throat. Castiel readied himself
as the cum spurted onto his tongue, invading his mouth with the warm, vile
taste. He obediently swallowed all of the strange man’s seed before sitting
back on his heels and wiping his lips with the back of his wrist. He relaxed
his wings, folding them up again.
Another one down.
It felt almost fucked up that Dean entered his mind while he was working but
the thought of his new friend soothed him, got him through the act a little
easier when he pretended that it was Dean’s cock pushing its way into the back
of his throat.
The stranger left without a word and was later replaced by someone all too
familiar. A shudder ripped through Castiel’s soul when he saw Harding enter his
room carrying the dreaded black gym bag in his hand.
Swiftly, Castiel scrambled off the bed and into position, kneeling back down on
the carpet. He kept his head down, his hands behind his back and his wings open
just like Harding had taught him. Not showing Harding respect only brought more
pain and he didn’t want any more than what was already coming to him.
Harding was an intimidating brut of a man, built big as a house and nearly as
strong, with large punishing hands and a sadist’s grin. This one gladly paid
extra for all the things he did to the teen’s body. Harding liked to cause
pain, lived for it, really, to hear the retching sobs he so carefully exacted
for his pleasure.
Castiel watched peripherally through his lowered eyes as Harding pulled out his
toys one by one from the black gym bag and meticulously placed them on the bed,
each one more terrifying than the next.
“Been waiting all week for this, fuck toy. You better be real good for me.”
Castiel felt his fear rise and his feathers trembled in a rhythmic thump
against his back. The ‘or else’ was unspoken but Castiel knew how it worked.
This one liked ropes and bruised flesh and other twisted things the teen should
never have to know about. No sickeningly sweet words or tender petting that
would slowly elicit his arousal would be found here. Still, Harding would get
his young dick hard and needy, there wasn’t any doubt. He just had more painful
ways of doing it.
The giant hand was quick in striking Castiel hard across the face. The hand
then pulled at the boy’s hair, forcing the reddening face up to meet his gaze.
His lips twisted into a perverted grin of approval as he looked into the fear
filled blue eyes.
“Now, the fun can begin.”
***** Chapter 7 *****
Dean smoothed his hair down with the palm of his hand as he paced back and
forth while waiting at Cas’s locker. The warning bell had already rung for
first period and Cas was never one to be late for school.
Dean’s concern grew and he wondered if maybe he should go look for him. His
mind was working out all the horrible things that might have occurred to Cas on
his way to school. He changed his mind before he got to the stairwell, when his
overactive mind got to bear attack and alien abduction he knew he was being
ridiculous and paranoid. He spun himself around and headed back in the
direction of Cas’s locker.
“Mr. Winchester isn’t there somewhere you should be?” Mr. Parsons, Dean’s 5th
period history teacher, asked as he stepped out of his classroom and looked
around the hall for stragglers.
Dean sighed. He knew what that tone meant. Go to class now or face detention.
He was pretty sure all his teachers had taken an imposing tone class in
college. It probably was a requisite.
“I’m just waiting for Cas…he’s uh, got… my book?”
He really needed to brush up on his convincing, lying voice soon or he was
going to be seeing a lot of those yellow detention slips in his future.
“Mmm hmm.” Mr. Parsons mumbled something about not being off to a good start
before retreating back into his classroom.
Dean hated that he was starting to know when and where his classes were and it
was even worse that his teachers were remembering him. At least now he wouldn’t
look pathetic waiting around for Cas at his locker like some loser with nothing
else to do. He had to get out of the hallway and go to class, was told so by a
teacher and everything.
Yeah. He’d see Cas when he saw him and that was just going to have to be good
enough until then.
His teachers may have been teaching but all Dean could hear was a low droning
“wonk wonk wonk” from every one of their mouths like in the old Charlie Brown
cartoons he watched. Not that he watched them anymore. Okay, so maybe he still
watched them at Christmas time and maybe Halloween, too. Who didn’t? Those were
just classics.
When his last class had come to an end, he made sure to casually stroll by
Cas’s locker one final time but Cas never showed up. His chest hurt a little
when he realized that he wouldn’t be seeing Cas today.
 
That nights dinner was a quiet affair. John was sleep deprived and Dean still
wasn’t feeling much like himself.
Sammy piped up, breaking the silence in between a fork full of spaghetti. “I
heard some kids talking today about your friend today, D. Saying how he’s one
of those winged people.”
“What? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped but his interest
had been piqued.
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“I dunno. I don’t know them. They were just talking at lunch.”
“You gotta stop listening to people, Sammy. Most of them don’t know dick.”
“But…but they said they’ve seen his wings.”
“So? So what if he has wings?”
“I dunno. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”
“Then why bring it up?”
Sam shrugged, his brother’s glare making him uncomfortable. “Thought it was
something you might want to know. I mean we’ve never known anyone with wings
before.”
Dean shook his head. “If you’re only gonna say dumb shit don’t bother saying
anything, okay?”
“You say dumb shit all the time, Dean.”
“Shut up, Sammy.”
“You shut up.”
“Enough! Both of you shut up and eat your dinner. You’re giving me a headache.”
John finally broke, the bickering had gotten on his last nerve.
They both began to quietly study the plates in front of them. When the room
settled down Sammy continued to stuff his face but Dean couldn’t eat; he pushed
his food around in front of him a couple times before he asked to be excused
from the table.
John looked over at the untouched food and then up at his son with concern.
“What’s the matter, Dean? You feeling okay?”
Dean simply shrugged and pushed himself away from the table. “Just not hungry.”
“We got pie for dessert.” John made the last ditch effort with a hopeful smile.
Maybe the promise of pie would change his son’s unusual mood?
Sam’s voice tried to ease his father’s concern with a subtle kiss up. “Dinner
was good, dad. He’s just being a weirdo.”
Great. Now, I’m the weirdo.
Dean didn’t look back to see his dad’s worried, confused eyes watching him as
he walked away. He headed up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind
him before tumbling into his bed.
He pulled the comforter up over his head, blocking out what little light the
window offered from the streetlight below. If he could just get the blue eyed
boy, now with possible wings, out of his head maybe everything would be normal
in his head again.
But things were getting curiouser, indeed.
***** Chapter 8 *****
John could hear the footsteps coming down the hall and turned to look at the
alarm clock. Which one could it be tonight? He could never be sure. Sammy still
had the occasional nightmare that needed tending to but it was Dean who had a
nasty penchant for sneaking out and finding mischief when he thought everyone
was fast asleep. Either way John knew he wouldn’t be finding sleep any time
soon.
“Dad? You busy?”
John looked up from the book in his hand, surprised to see that it was Dean
looming outside his bedroom door. It reminded him of when Dean was a small boy,
pacing outside doorways, peeking into rooms, waiting patiently for his father’s
attention, always so careful not to disturb or be a nuisance.
Tonight, his son’s face looked pale and tired. Whatever he had on his mind was
taking a hell of a toll. The last time John could remember seeing his son like
this was going back 3 years ago and a million towns from where they were now.
John was confident his son didn’t remember his or her name. Hell, he couldn’t
remember what gender caused his son such grief. There had been more interests
of/for his son’s attention than he could count since back then. But that love
sick boy had never made a return appearance. John’s quiet amusement suddenly
turned grim and he felt a twinge of sadness in his chest for his boy, who never
got to experience a more normal life.
“Come on in, Dean. Is Sammy talking in his sleep again?
“Nah. Sammy’s fine. Out like a light.”
Dean padded across the unimpressively small room and sat teetering on the edge
of the lumpy bed facing his dad. His knee awkwardly bent underneath him.
John nodded his approval. “Good. Good. Wouldn’t want you smothering him with a
pillow or anything.”
“Yeah.” Dean replied but didn’t look at his dad, he picked at the tiny balls of
lint that covered the well-worn comforter with his fingers. His son was miles
away.
“What’s on your mind, Dean?”
There was silence for a few moments before Dean looked up at his father, his
dark eyes sad yet inquisitive.“What’s so bad about being winged?”
So that’s what this was about?
“Nothing bad about it, as far as I can tell. Is this about your friend, Cas, is
it?”
Dean nodded his head.
“I mean, there’s not a lot known about them. They’re a pretty closed off group,
they keep to themselves mostly, don’t cause trouble. Sounds like they’d make
pretty good neighbors if you ask me. But best I can tell they’re no different
than you or me. Not dangerous or anything like that. I found some lore on them…
it’s downstairs on the desk. I think you should read it.”
“Seriously? You’re giving me homework?” Dean groaned.
“Not homework, Dean. I’m trying to teach you something here. I want you to make
a well informed decision on the Winged people. Don’t just listen to what your
old man has to say or anyone else for that matter.”
“Can’t I read that stuff after… you know, after I know if Cas is one of them?”
“No. You asked a question and you’re going to find your own answer.”
“Shoulda kept my mouth shut.” Dean got up from the bed and headed off toward
the stairs.
 
000
John crept down the stairs and found Dean dozing at the large wooden desk, face
planted right down in the middle of a book. He gently shook his son’s shoulder.
“Go to bed, Dean. You can finish reading tomorrow.”
Dean sleepily opened his eyes half way. “Just a few more minutes, Dad, I’m
almost done.”
John looked down at the pages his son’s head once rested upon and shook his
head.
Almost my ass.
“No, Dean, Bed now. It’s almost 4 am and you got school in the morning.”
Dean yawned and sluggishly pushed himself out of the chair.
John placed a hand on the back of his son’s arm, partly to prod him along part
to steady him. The kid was still half asleep and John worried that he might not
make it up the stairs.
As they headed up the stairs Dean muttered something about something but it was
sleep filled and incoherent. John just smiled and pushed his son onward toward
his bed.
***** Chapter 9 *****
It was still dark outside when a freshly showered and dressed Sam bounded into
the bedroom he shared with his brother.
“Wake up, D. Wake up.” He sang and turned on the overhead light.
Dean, exhausted from his late night of research, just about managed to shoot
his brother a murderous glare with his one eye that was peeking out from under
the covers.
“Quit it! You’re gonna wake Dad.”
Sam pulled the covers off of his brother and gave him a shove, producing a
long, low growl.
“C’mon, D. You know the rules! You don’t have to go in but you still need to
drive me to school.”
Yeah…Dad’s rules. They were mostly about watching out for Sam. Those weren’t so
different from his own personal rule: Do whatever it takes to shut Sam up.
“All right. All right.” Dean conceded and sluggishly got to his feet, worried
that his brother was only seconds away from jumping up and down on his bed and
then he’d have to kill him and break one of Dad’s rules about Sam’s safety.
“Remind me again why dad didn’t sell you to those gypsies?”
When he was finally standing up, Sam headed out of the room. Dean grabbed an
old sweatshirt off of the floor and followed Sam down the stairs.
“Did you eat something?” Dean looked up with concerned eyes as he put on his
old, beat up sneakers, the one’s he only wore when he needed to run a quick
errand. He hoped no one would see him, especially since he hadn’t bothered to
change out of his rubber ducky pajama pants.
“I made some toast.” Sam flung his backpack over his shoulder.
It was a quiet ride. Sam stared out the window, not daring to speak while Dean
drove. Dean was not a morning person; his full concentration was needed for the
complicated task that driving half asleep was. There was the occasional yawn or
growl from the driver’s seat that let Sam know his brother was still awake.
He dropped Sam off at the side entrance and turned up the radio loud.
Crap he was tired.
He suddenly perked up when he saw Cas walking down the sidewalk toward the
enterance to the building. He pulled the car into the fire zone and jumped out
to beat him to the door.
“Cas! Cas! Wait up!” He called out.
Castiel’s blue eyes seemed to shine in the dull morning sun when he turned his
head to look at Dean, stopping as his hand reached for the door handle. “Hey,
D-Dean.”
The two boys stood awkwardly face to face. Cas shifted his weight from one foot
to the other as Dean rubbed the palm of his hand over his eyes. “I need coffee.
You wanna come?”
“Ok-kay.” Cas nodded happily and they headed to the car.
“You want to get breakfast or something?” Dean started the engine.
He looked down at his lap and shook his head. “N-no. I sh-shouldn’t b-be t-too
late.”
 
Cas noticed the blue pajama pants with the yellow rubber ducks that his friend
was wearing from the corner of his eye. Amusement bubbled up in him and he
couldn’t help but giggle. “N-nice p-pants.”
Dean blushed. “Don’t make fun. I was going to go back to bed as soon as I
dropped Sam off.”
“N-no. N-no. I like th-them.”
“They were a Christmas gift from Sam.” His voice came out sounding slightly
sensitive.
“W-we d-don’t have Chr-Christmas.”
“No? We don’t either, not really. Me and Sam do the gift thing but my dad’s
usually working. What’s your parent’s excuse?”
“Th-those p-people aren’t m-my p-parents!” he snapped, rage lit up those pretty
blue eyes then he quickly scrunched his eyes shut and braced himself. When a
cruel hand never came, he relaxed back in his seat and his chin dropped to his
chest, ashamed at his sharp, angry tone.
Dean was taken aback by his quiet friend’s unexpected reaction. He never saw it
coming or that Cas didn’t live with his parents, that sort of thing wasn’t that
uncommon, he supposed. If things went differently for their family he could
easily see how him and Sam could have ended up without John, though he was
pretty confident that his dad would move heaven and earth to keep their family
together, probably had on occasion.
Dean suddenly felt incredibly guilty for all the times he and Sammy had talked
about their dad either venting their frustrations or sharing silly anecdotes.
It never even registered to him that Cas never had any stories, good or bad, to
share about his own parents.
“I didn’t mean any…Really. I didn’t know.”
Cas shrugged, his eyes never leaving the dashboard.
Dean looked at his friend with a sly grin and an approving nod. “You got a
little fire inside there, don’t ya?”
Yeah, Dean definitely liked a little fire in his intended conquests. Cas had
layers and he was finally getting a private peek at them.
As they drove down the street a familiar guitar riff came through the speakers.
Dean turned the radio up slightly. “Oh, I like this song.”
“W-what is it?”
Dean looked at Cas like he had two heads. “You’ve never heard this before? It’s
Zeppelin’s Royal Orleans.”
“N-no.”
“Oh man, Cas, what have you been doing with your life? Listening to pop top 40
shit?”
“I d-don’t list-listen t-to m-much m-music.”
“I think we’re gonna have to fix that.”
Dean drove down to the Quik-Mart and got his coffee while Cas stayed in the
car. Dean grabbed a juice for Cas and two bagels one for each of them.
When he slid back into the car he forced the bag with the carton of orange
juice and a bagel at Cas. “Here. I bet you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
“You…You d-didn’t have t-to…”
“No one should have to endure the educational system on an empty stomach.” He
took a sip of his coffee and gave a grunt of approval.
Cas unwrapped the paper and broke off a piece of the bagel. “T-thanks.”
It was at a stop light, seconds away from school when without any warning or
preamble Dean leaned over and planted a quick kiss upon Cas’s lips. His lips
were warm and softer than he imagined and he desperately wanted to move in for
more.
He didn't know why he did what he did just then but he didn't care. He had to.
Not kissing Cas was burning up his soul. He needed to know what kissing Cas
felt like. He had to at least get one mystery out of the way.
Dean regretfully backed away and sat himself against the seat keeping one eye
on Cas as he pulled into the school parking lot. “Was that okay?”
Cas nodded his head slowly, his fingers rubbing lightly over his lips, where
Dean had been only moments ago. A small smile crept its way across his lips.
“So you can smile!” Dean teased.
Cas’s eyes had become large and bright and if Dean stared long enough he
thought he might see straight into his friends brain. “O-only w-when I’m around
you.”
Hearing those words fall from the lips he had just kissed and wanted so badly
to kiss again made Dean smile, too.
Cas kept his books close to his chest and opened the door to get out of the
car.
“S-see you later?”
"See you at 3." He watched Cas walk into the building before he drove back to
his house singing along with the radio the whole way.
In a second, Dean knew he had opened a door to somewhere new. It was going to
be an adventure he was more than excited to go on.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Sam lay on the brown shag carpet, quietly watching the TV. Raiders of the Lost
Arc was airing on basic cable and Dean had enthusiastically proclaimed that
they would be watching it again.
Sam reached for the bowl of popcorn they had made earlier, scooping out a
handful.
He knew the movie by heart but it didn’t bother him that much. He liked when
his brother got excited over something and lately Dean had been getting excited
and been in a good mood more often than usual. It was a nice change from the
gruff, bossy, dictator his older brother tried to be when their dad was at
work.
But Sam knew it was more than just the movie airing on TV that had done this to
his brother. Dean had been sure acting weirder than usual over this one.
Sam pushed himself to his knees. “So Cas is really coming over tomorrow?”
Dean nodded; his eyes remained glued to the action on the screen.
“How’d that happen?” Sam asked with a wide eyed curiosity
His brother’s face was a blank canvass. “I asked he accepted. That’s usually
how invites work, Sammy.”
“This is, like, your first real play date, like, ever.”
Dean glared at his brother with a trace of annoyance in his eyes and snatched
the bowl out of his hands. He took a hand full of popcorn and he threw at Sam’s
grinning face. “We’re not five, Sam. Now watch the movie. You’re gonna miss the
best part. ”
Sam watched his brother for another minute before turning his attention back to
Harrison Ford and his most recent predicament.
000
It was time. He had finally gotten Sam’s nosy ass to go outside and get the
mail, leaving him and Cas all alone and Dean couldn’t wait anymore. Sam would
stay gone for too long. The kid sure couldn’t take a hint. Now was his only
chance to ask what had been weighing on his mind. He had to know if the dark
haired boy had a secret he was willing to share.
“Do you have wings?” He asked bluntly. He had practiced the conversation that
he wanted to have a thousand times in his head but the words that left his
mouth were far less suave than he had planned.
Dean didn’t need any reply from his friend. The look in Cas’s eyes revealed any
secret that he may have wanted to keep.
Dean smiled, wanting to put his friend at ease. “Hey. Look. It’s cool if you
do. I just heard that you did and thought I would ask you instead of listening
to stupid rumors.”
Cas remained frozen from the unexpected question. His only movement was his
teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. He nodded with great hesitation; his eyes
never looked directly at Dean.
“Seriously? That’s pretty awesome.” Dean was far too excited to play cool.
The concern on Cas’s face softened slightly. “T-that’s o-okay w-with you? You
still w-want t-to b-be fr-friends?”
“Of course it’s okay, Cas. There’s way weirder shit in the world than people
with wings.”
Dean mentally kicked himself for how that came out sounding. He was worried
that he offended his friend while trying to dismiss his concern. He wasn’t real
good at the whole talking with Cas thing yet. He really hoped he’d get better
at it.
Then he added just to be safe. “Not that being winged is weird or anything.
It’s just, you know, not real common.”
Castiel didn’t seem to mind Dean’s awkward phrasing and just nodded with a
small smile letting his friend know that he understand the meaning.
The boys awkwardly sat in the bedroom, quietly glancing at each other. Dean had
something else to say and Cas could see he was trying to work himself up to it.
“Well…would it be okay if…forget it.” Dean was slowly chickening out.
“W-what? J-just s-say it.” But Cas already knew what the question was. He just
wasn’t real sure what his answer would be.
Dean blushed, embarrassed to even be asking such a thing but the curiosity was
killing him. His green eyes looked down at his hands. “Your wings. Christ. I
feel stupid even asking. Could I maybe... see them?"
“W…why?” Cas tensed and his brow knitted.
No one had ever asked to see his wings before without wanting to do something
to him after. He hoped Dean was different than the others but there was a
little part of him that hoped that maybe Dean would want to do something too.
He wouldn’t mind. He was pretty sure he would like whatever Dean wanted to do.
He sure liked it when Dean kissed him the other day.
“I dunno. I guess, cause I don’t have them and I don’t know anyone else that
has them and I’m curious.”
Cas really liked the fact that Dean acted weird and nervous around him. It made
him comfortable when someone was acting as awkward as he felt. It was because
of that and the feelings that he had been feeling for Dean that he consented to
the viewing.
He paused before he lifted his shirt “J-just p-promise you w-won’t t-touch t-
them, ok-kay?”
And on Dean’s promise, Cas lifted the shirt over his head. He took a deep
breath and willed his wings to open up and expand. He flapped them a few times,
giving Dean the full freakish show.
Cas nervously looked back over his shoulder needing to see Dean’s reaction.
Dean’s face was awestruck.
“That. Is. So. Cool.”
Cas looked into deep into his eyes, searching for the lie but could only find
honest awe. “Really?”
Dean nodded, a silly grin still plastered on his face. “They’re so compact. I
thought they’d be bigger… bulky, you know? But you can’t hardly tell they’re
there. They fold up like that by themselves or do you have to make them?”
“I c-can c-control t-them. M-mostly…” Cas replied a little nervously, his eyes
dropping back down to the stain covered carpet. He didn't want to have to
explain the times when he couldn't.
The brief show and tell was unexpectedly interrupted when Sam cheerily burst
through the door.
“Hey D, do you know where…?” Sam stopped going any further into the bedroom
when he saw the half dressed Cas.
“Get out of here, Sammy.”
Sam's eyes shifted from his annoyed brother to the red faced Castiel with
curious interest. “What’s going on in here?”
Cas hurried to put his shirt back on with now shaking hands, covering his wings
from view.
 
“Out! Now!” Dean ordered, pointing angrily at the door.
Sam didn't budge.
Irritated, Dean got up off of the bed, stalked over to his brother and grabbed
his brother by the arm.
“It’s my room too, Deeeeeeeeeean!” Sam whined as he was unceremoniously ejected
from the bedroom.
“Sammy, shut it. You’re gonna wake up Dad.” Dean warned, slamming the door on
his little brother’s face.
“I’m telling!”
“Go ahead.” Dean yelled at the shut door. He rolled his eyes as he sat back
down on his bed. “I asked for a dog instead I got a brother. Dog still woulda
been better. So, yeah, I like your wings."
Cas finished tucking in his t-shirt and forced his sweater over his head. “T-
they’re st-stupid. M-make m-me l-look like a f-freak.”
“I dunno. I think they make you look like an angel.” Dean grinned, finally
sounding as smooth as he thought he was.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Dean looked disappointedly at the inside of the refrigerator. It was near empty
which was nothing new but since his dad was heading out of town it would be on
him to go to the grocery store.
Navigating his way through the crowds of surly blue haired ladies and soccer
moms with their baskets full of crying, dirty faced children with grabby,
sticky hands was definitely not something he looked forward to.
“W-whatever’s f-fine.” Cas said making Dean’s offer of a beverage easy.
Dean handed his friend off a bottle of Coke as John stomped into the kitchen
grumbling in search of his coffee pot. The large man's sudden appearance gave
Cas a good scare causing him to jump. The 16oz plastic bottle of soda he was
holding fell from his hand and spilled out all over the floor.
Panicked, Cas quickly reached for the paper towels on the counter and dropped
to his knees. He was stammering and stuttering out fear filled apologies.
“Hey Cas it’s okay.” Dean insisted, moving closer to help his friend off the
floor.
Cas looked up at the two men, the fear on his face was palpable. His bottom lip
was trembling. “I’m s-sorry. I’m s-sorry. S-sorry. S-sorry.”
John didn’t think he was that frightening a sight. Sure, his beard made him
look scruffy and no doubt his hair was unkempt but he just woke up and wasn’t
going to a fashion show just into his kitchen. No need for a suit in tie. Being
a corporal in the Marine Corps and after with years of hunting he knew he was
bigger than most men but he never got a reaction like that from anyone just by
walking into a room before.
“Come on. Get up.” Dean held out his hand and pulled Cas to his feet.
John stepped in, wanting to put his house guest at ease. “No harm done, Cas.
Floor was already dirty already. I should be thanking you. Now maybe one of my
boys’ll be motivated to give it a good washing. How about it, Dean?”
“I c-can d-do it. T-the f-floor w-will get st-sticky. Just n-need s-soap.”
Dean pressed his hand against his friends shoulder, keeping Cas on his feet.
“Leave it, Cas. Dad’s right. I’ll make Sammy wash it tonight.”
John watched the two boys from sink. He cleared his throat and flashed his son
a cautionary yet teasing look. “What was that, Dean?”
“Or I’ll wash the floor after I bring Cas home.”
“That’s better.” His father smiled as he filled the coffee pot up with water.
“So this must be Cas. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“S-sorry I w-was c-careless, s-sir.”
“You’re fine, Cas. Accidents happen.” John offered to the nervous boy still
trembling before him.
Cas nodded but he didn’t quite he believe the older man. There were no
accidents in the house where he lived.
John was cleaning his guns in the living room, anxious to talk to his son while
Sammy sprawled out on the floor doing his homework. When Dean walked in from
taking Cas home, Sam pounced like a hungry cougar on a gazelle.
“So is Cas your boyfriend now?” Sammy asked with a grin.
“What? No.” Dean scoffed, his cheeks burning pink.
Sam giggled. “You’re blushing.”
“I am not. Shut up, Sam.”
“Dean’s got a boyfriend.”
Dean reached out and slapped Sam in the back of his head.
“Dad! Dean hit me.”
“Dean, don't hit your brother. Sam, finish your homework and stop teasing your
brother.” John warned,looking up from the gun in his hand.
But Sam couldn't resist continuing on. “Dean and Cas sitting in a tree. K-i-s-
s-i-n-g.”
"DAD!" Dean yelled, his frustration peaked.
“Sam! Finish your homework in your room. Go!”
“Oh, come on.” Sam whined, “I was just messing around. He’s always messing with
me.”
“Next time that happens, I trust Dean will send himself to his room.” John
grinned from behind his book.
Sam picked up his books and stomped up the stairs in a huff, muttering how
unfair everyone was the whole way.
John put down the gun and decided now that Sam was out of the picture it was
time to start asking questions. “So tell me about this Cas…”
“No, dad, just… no. I’m not having this talk with you. I still haven’t
recovered from the one about the birds and the bees yet.”
“I gave that to you something like five years ago after I found you playing
doctor with that little neighbor girl.”
“Still no less traumatized.” Dean shook his head and stood up to leave the
room, trying to remove himself from his father’s questionable humor.
“Was it the flash cards? That too much?” John called to his fleeing son.
“Traumatized!”
John let out a laugh then quickly got serious. “Wait, Dean, I want to talk to
you for a sec.”
Dean reluctantly stopped moving and turned back to face his father.
“How much do you know about your friend? Like his home life?”
“I don’t know. Not much I guess. Why?”
“Just keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Dean, I’m serious. I want you to promise me that you will.”
Dean eyed his father with suspicion and nodded. “Yeah, dad, I promise.”
John did not elaborate; he liked to have his facts in order before he started
making accusations though he was extremely confident in his instinct.
John had seen kids like Castiel before; the always jumpy, always nervous, kids
with that scared look that never left their eyes. There were a few hunters he’d
come across that had kids who looked like that.
It made him sick to think someone was hurting Castiel and that there was
nothing he could do about it but knowing Dean was now on alert Castiel wouldn’t
be able to sneeze without it raising an eyebrow.
***** Chapter 12 *****
The house was quiet but Russ’s car was parked in the driveway. Just knowing
Russ was home before him twisted his stomach into knots. He had such a nice
afternoon over at Dean’s house and he worried that whatever was waiting for him
would put an end to his good day.
He padded quietly toward his room to drop off his backpack when he heard a
laugh from the hallway. He froze as he tried thinking of an excuse for…he
didn’t get home late. He was actually home earlier than he usually was not that
Russ knew what time he got home from school or anything about him, really.
 
Cas was busy in the laundry room when Russ popped his head in. Russ grunted,
barely looking at the boy standing at the washing machine. “Castiel, stop what
you're doing and goo get ready. You’re going to Dr. Roman’s this weekend.”
Upon hearing the news Cas felt the knots in his stomach slowly start to uncoil.
He sort of liked the doctor. Dr. Roman would take him out to eat or to the
movies. He treated Cas like a proper kid. Sure, the doctor expected things of
him but for the most part it wasn’t bad. Dr. Roman liked it when Cas enjoyed
himself. Knowing that Cas got off is what got the doctor off. He was one of the
few men who cared about Cas’s pleasure. Cas almost wished more men were like
the doctor. Almost.
An entire weekend with the doctor would wring him dry until his dick was too
sensitive and every touch would be agony. By Sunday there’d surely be nothing
left, yet the doctor would still manage to force one or two more orgasms from
the kid before sending him home. But it was still a weekend away from his
foster parents and that was just fine with him.
Cas nodded obediently and hurried to get his overnight bag from his room.
 
It was dark when he pulled into Denny’s and the parking lot was dimly lit and
nearly empty.
Dean got out of the Impala and looked around. Always be aware of your
surroundings. His dad had ingrained that in him since he was five years old. It
was a warning that, over the years, he had learned to take seriously.
He spotted a lone four door sedan suspiciously tucked in the corner of the
Denny’s parking lot. He stood by the hood of his car for a moment, watching the
sedan with wary while Sammy fiddled with tying his shoe.
Just some dude taking a nap. Nothing too unusual going on there, he shrugged
and was about to turn away when he saw the shadowy shape of a head rise up from
the passengers side then lower itself down again. Any passerby would never have
even noticed but he wasn’t just any passerby.
The corners of his lips curled into a knowing grin. It was a scene he had
played the lead in many times in the back seat of his dad’s Impala.
It was what he saw after that through him for a loop. He saw his friend Cas and
some older guy in the distance, getting out of the suspicious sedan,
Dean abruptly grabbed his brother by the arm, pulling him toward the entrance
of the restaurant.
“Come on, Sammy.Move it, I'm hungry.”
 
Dean seethed as he slammed the door of the Impala, making it shake from side to
side like a bowl of Jello.
Every movement he made was more violent then the next, increasing with the
anger that was building in his chest.
Uncle Dick, my ass. That man was no more Cas’s uncle than Sammy’s my prom date.
And what he saw going on in that parking lot was certainly not any sort of
thing an uncle should be doing with his nephew, no matter how close they were.
Dean started the engine and before Sammy could even get his seat belt on he had
shifted the car into reverse with a grunt.
Sam let out a shriek as he tipped over slightly into the driver’s seat, bumping
into Dean’s arm.
Usually he had good instincts when it came to people but never in a million
years would he have ever considered that Cas was like that. He had him all
wrong and he wondered what else he had wrong about his shy little friend.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Castiel scrunched down in the booth, trying to make himself as small as
possible. But it was too late; he had already caught their eye.
 
With enthusiasm in his voice Sam pointed right at him. “D, Look! It’s Cas.”
“Sammy, stop. Leave them alone.”
“Why are you being so weird? You do what you want but I’m saying hi to Cas.”
 
Castiel’s heart stopped when he saw the two brothers’ approach the booth.
 
"Friends of yours, Castiel?" Dr. Roman asked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, nervously. Embarrassment burned
hot in Cas’s cheeks, turning the pale skin a flush of pink.
 
“It’s nice to meet you boys. I’m Cas’s uncle, Dick.” As Dr. Roman introduced
himself, Cas felt himself relax. It sounded believable, he supposed but there
was something about the cockeyed way Dean looked at them that made Cas think he
wasn’t quite buying it.
“So what are you boys up to tonight?” Dr. Roman asked with a polite smile.
“Our dad had to go outta town. So D’s forcing me to go grocery shopping with
him.” Sam grinned up at his brother.
“Yeah…not like you eat or anything. You’re lucky I’m feeding you at all.”
Dean’s voice was teasing but his eyes were focused on the sight before him,
absorbing Cas and the older man with the British accent.
Dr. Roman smiled at the two boys as they bickered back and forth. The
Winchester bickering usually put Cas at ease but tonight was different. When
their food arrived the two boys excused themselves.
“See ya at school, Cas.” Sam turned back around and waved but Dean was already
back at his table, invested in his food.
 
“Your friends seem nice, Castiel.” Dr. Roman smiled warmly as his hand gently
rested on Cas’s thigh.
“Yeah…”
His voice was sad and his eyes were full of worry. He'd been caught out with
Dr. Roman, seen by Dean, the one person who he never wanted to know his dirty
secret. How could Dean ever like him if he found out the truth about him? How
could anybody? He was a freak, a winged whore for rent. He had never been a
position like that before, never had to explain himself to anyone before. It
wasn’t as if he had any friends.
But if Dean ever found out about the things did, how he really spent his
weekends, Dean would stop liking him and he liked that Dean liked him far more
than he hated the things he did for money.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Dean was busy pacing outside the entrance that Castiel usually used, waiting
for him to show up at school. He was nervous,his heart racing in anticipation
for his friend’s arrival, wiping his sweaty palms on the worn thighs of his
faded jeans.
He had been practicing what he wanted to say in the bathroom mirror since he
rolled out of bed that morning only stopping when Sammy barged in on him,
needing to use the shower.
The situation was, admittedly, a first and he didn’t know what to do with all
the thoughts that were filling his head. Was he not cute enough? He always
thought he was. Maybe he wasn’t funny enough? That just wasn’t possible.
He just couldn’t understand why Cas would rather be with some old dude than
him? It took him ages to get the courage up to just kiss him. He wanted to take
things slow, he didn’t think Cas was experienced and he didn’t want to freak
him out.
 
If he wasn’t Cas’s type why didn’t he tell him he was barking up the wrong
tree? Did Cas really have a thing for old guys? If it was some random interest,
he could lie about his age some, maybe pass for 20, 21 tops but Cas already
knew he was in high school and even he couldn’t convincingly pull off being
that Mark guy kind of old.
 
000
With his chin tucked in his chest, Cas walked down the sidewalk toward the
brick building.
“Cas…wait up a sec.”
Cas hesitated at the door a few moments, scuffing his sneakers against the
pavement before finally turning to face Dean.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
Cas looked at the door than nodded with trepidation.
“So… are you like into older dudes?”
Cas blinked hard, taken aback by the bluntness of the question.
“That guy you were with the other night. It’s cool…if that’s your thing.”
“M-my uncle?"
Dean rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Cas, I saw you… in the car with him.
That guy’s no more your uncle than Sammy’s my sister.”
Cas shook his head and his bottom lip began to tremble.
Quickly, the words fell from Dean’s lips. “It’s...it just…it made me start
thinking, you know? About you and me…and I really like you, Cas and not just in
some friendly way. I mean, I like that we’re friends but it’s more than that.
You’re, like, all I think about. It’s crazy but since I met you I actually look
forward to going to school every day cause I can’t wait to see you. And hate
driving you home because I know I’ll have to wait whole ‘nother day until I can
see you again.”
Nervous at how honest he was being, he shut his eyes. He just had to make it
through the next part and then...good or bad…it’d be out there and he could
breathe again.
“What I’m trying to say is that I think I’m falling in love with you. And I
don’t have a clue what to do with that.”
 
Surprised at the words, Cas processed them carefully.
Dean stared at him waiting for a reply, a rejection, a confirmation, anything
but his silence was more silent than usual. The bell rang and Cas opened the
door and walked into the building, knowing he was making a huge mistake.
 
It wasn’t until 4th period Cas got up enough courage to look for Dean. The
sudden outpouring from his friend had made Cas nervous. He had definite
feelings for Dean but was unsure what returning a sentiment like that would
mean. He wondered if he could have this small piece of happiness, something
Fran and Russ couldn't take away from him.
With a stomach full of butterflies Cas stood around the corner from his
friend’s locker, waiting for Dean to arrive.
He watched as Dean approached his locker, opening it up and rummaging around
inside it. Hesitantly, he snuck up behind him, hoping with his whole heart
Dean’s feelings hadn’t changed.
He forced the words from his throat. “I th-think…I am…t-too.”
Dean shut his locker and turned to face the voice, his green eyes focused
carefully on the nervous boy. “You think, huh? Don’t you know?”
Cas twisted uncomfortably and began to stammer.
Dean gave his friend a big grin. “I think I can work with that.”
Closing his eyes, Cas took a deep breath and basked in the warm feeling he got
whenever Dean looked at him. Wishing he had someone to share his happiness
with, at that moment he missed his parents more than ever.
He imagined his mother would get a wistful look in her eye over her little boy
growing up. She’d wrap her arms around him, and he would smell the vanilla and
jasmine scent she always wore smiling sweetly and tell him ‘Of course this boy
likes you, baby. You're perfect.’
Maybe he was finally on his way to being perfect to someone again.
With the sleeve of his jacket he wiped a tear from his eye. He didn’t want to
think of sad things today. Today he just wanted to feel like a normal, regular
kid, goofing off with his friend after school.
Dean had driven them to some lake he knew about, hidden way on the edge of
town. A place that was secluded and quiet, where they could spend a few hours
together. They may not have been alone; Sam trailing behind them the whole
time, but it barely mattered. With Dean, nothing mattered to him except being
in the moment.
Losing Sam for a moment, Dean took his hand and pulled him off of the dirt
trail, pulling him behind some trees and out of site from the spying eyes of
little brother. Warm breath invaded his personal space, full lips pressed into
his, a tongue prodded against his lips, seeking entrance, Kissing him fully and
intensely. It was a kiss meant that business. Their tongues mingled frantically
.
It wasn’t long after they started kissing, Sam called out for them,
interrupting the moment. "Dean! Cas! Where’d you go?"
Dean groaned, pulling himself away Cas' lips, reluctantly. His hands linger on
the younger man’s hips as he spoke low, his voice breathless and frustrated
from unfulfilled desire. "Gotta ditch Sammy one of these afternoons. So much I
wanna do with you."
Cas rested his head against the taller boy’s chest, his hands clutched Dean's
jacket, fists full of the army green colored material entwined in his fingers,
desperately wanting to keep Dean this close to him forever.
 
 
It was later than Castiel planned when he finally got homw. After giving the
house a once over, he quickly cleaned up everything that could possibly draw
attention. He’d be sure to be more thorough later when everyone was asleep.
Just as he started to prepare dinner he heard Fran’s car pull into the
driveway. He dreaded the moment that Fran walked through the door; he hoped
that she wouldn’t be able to tell from the look on his face that he had a good
day. His happiness was bound to piss her off.
The front door slammed shut and Fran’s high heels clicked across the wood
floor.
“Castiel, did you forget to mow the lawn?” Her screechy voice called from the
living room.
Shit, he had forgotten all about that. It wasn’t on his mile long to do list
but Russ had mentioned it last night before he went to bed.
“I…” he stammered, dropping everything and rushing into the living room,
running straight into Fran’s annoyed grimace.
“Finish fixing dinner. You’ll just have to do it while everyone’s eating.”
Everyone? He’d forgotten about that. Fran and Russ had friends coming tonight.
He still couldn't believe that they actually had friends.
“Anyway, you don’t need to eat tonight.”
It wasn't fair. He'd do all the cooking and he'd be cleaning up their mess all
night and he'd still go to bed hungry. It made him sick that tonight, while she
entertained their guests, her attitude toward him would change drastically,
turning her into the kind and loving mom everyone thought she was but the
minute their guests walked out the door, though, she’d drop her veneer and he’d
be in for it, no doubt.
After the guests went home, he was called to face his foster parents wrath once
again. Fran screeched and ranted, insisting that Russ make the ungrateful
little bastard sorry for embarrassing them. Forgetting orders was simply an
unacceptable act
 
Castiel began to prepare himself for his punishment, taking down his pants and
underwear. He leaned over the big wooden desk in Russ’s office, his bare ass
exposed and on display. Cas reached across the desk, clutching the edge tightly
to ensure that he remained in place.
 
Waiting for the pain to start was murder on his nerves, a torture in itself. It
eased his mind a bit that his punishment would end with the belt. Russ would
never go any further, never would take him sexually. The idea of sticking his
dick into something as undesirable as a winged person repulsed him. If Castiel
didn’t bring in as much money as he did with the state stipend and his “side
work” he would not have kept the boy around as long as he did.
The door opened and he could hear Russ clicking his tongue as he walked across
the hardwood floor, probably scuffing the wood as he went. One more thing he’d
have to take care of this week on. He mentally put the office floor on his to
do list.
Russ stepped behind the boy without a word, though Russ wouldn't stay silent
for long. Castiel could hear the belt as it worked its way out from the belt
loops of Russ’s suit pants. Out of fear, his wings flapped against his back
several times.
 
“Can’t do anything right, can you? You embarrassed us tonight, you selfish
little shit. We took you in when no one wanted you. We clothe and feed you,
gave you a bed to sleep in and do you appreciate any of it? Disciplining you is
all I ever seem to do these days. You might bring in money but it’s starting to
not be worth the aggravation.”
 
A gasp ripped from his throat involuntarily at the quick, sharp blow to his
ass, the leather hit him hard and low. Another searing stroke cracked against
his buttocks. Russ swung the belt again, thrashing the backs of his thighs on
the next swing. He grunted through gritted teeth, his eyes slitted shut against
the searing pain.
The blows continued, covering his thighs, lower back and buttocks. His body
shifted and twisted to avoid the belt, the more he cried, the harder Russ’s
blows became. A blood curdling scream filled the room as the buckle of the belt
slammed down viciously onto Cas’s back. The pain was excruciating and he
struggled to regain his breath.
When his punishment was over and he was dismissed, he carefully pushed himself
up from the desk and limped slowly to the bathroom so he could examine his
damaged backside in mirror.
Thick red welts had sprung up on the pale flesh but it felt much worse than it
actually looked. A large cut remained where the belt's buckle had connected,
leaving its gruesome mark. That would be ugly by morning, maybe even leave a
scar. He shrugged helplessly at the sight and rubbed at his beet red backside,
trying to help ease the painful throbbing that the belt left behind and walked
out of the bathroom. He still had cleaning to do and homework as well, it
seemed sleep would not be on his "to do" list tonight.
***** Chapter 15 *****
It was well after 4 in the morning when Cas finally limped his way to bed. He
could maybe get 2 hours of sleep in before his alarm went off or worse, he was
dragged cruelly from his bed. He was exhausted but the thought of having to lie
in his soft bed made his wings twitch from the idea.
 
The morning brought with it light drizzles of rain causing a constant rubbing
of his clothes against the angry welts forcing the pain to flare up again and
again. His dry eyes burned and watered at the same time, compliments from last
night’s tears and from the lack of sleep.
It took him longer to walk to school that morning than usual, stopping every so
often to let the throbbing left from his bout with the belt settle down some
before continuing the rest of the way, but he made it with moments to spare
before the bell. He felt a twinge of sadness when he saw Dean’s car in the
parking lot and realized he wasn’t waiting outside for him. Maybe Dean had lost
interest not that he could blame him, really, if he did.
 
When he made finally made it up the stairs and turned the corner into the hall
where his locker was, the sight of Dean standing with his books in hand, back
pressed firmly yet casually up against the r red metal lockers waiting for him
instantly brought a smile to rise up from his lips. He could deal with anything
that his foster parents wanted to throw at him as long as there were moments
like that.
 
“Hey you! You're late.” Dean stepped closer and Castiel tensed, his face
scrunched up when Dean playfully touched a tender spot on his back.
His smile turned into a concerned frown.“What’s the matter, Cas?”
 
“N-nothing, just t-tired. D-didn’t get m-much sleep last n-night.”
Dean could see from the bloodshot eyes and far away gaze that his
boyfrrr…scratch that…what were they anyway? He settled on his friend… His
friend looked exhausted but he got an unsettling feeling in his stomach that
there was more to it. The words of his father suddenly came back to him.“Just
keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s okay.”
He grabbed Cas’s hand and pulled him down the hall toward the boy’s bathroom.
Cas made a feeble attempt to free himself from the hand wrapped around his
wrist. “D-Dean, th-the b-bell. N-need t-to get t-to kuh-class.”
Right. Warning bell be damned. This was way more important.
Dean pushed open the door and stormed through it, dragging Cas behind him,
startling the random boy that was standing at the bathroom sink.
"Get out!" he growled.
The boy ran out of the room without washing his hands.
“Lift up your shirt.” Dean ordered.
Cas shook his head, refusing, his face burning hot.
Dean quickly spun his friend around and started to pull the thick grey tee-
shirt out from the waistband of his khaki pants.
“D-don’t, p-please, D-dean.” Cas begged, his hands pressed hard into the
bathroom sink balling his fingers up into the porcelain, not trying to stop
Dean but he refused to help him either.
Dean ignored his friend and continued, lifting the shirt and exposing Cas’s
welted, red back for his viewing. He gasped and took a step back, letting go of
the tee-shirt quickly like it had burned his fingers. The red welts were bright
and angry. They must have been wildly painful for his friend. His mouth went
dry. "What happened, Cas? Who did that to you?”
“N-n-nothing. N-n-no one.” Cas remained frozen in place, facing the sink, tears
filled in his eyes. “It w-was m-my f-fault. I m-made them angry…”
“Can’t imagine you doing anything to deserve that.”
“You d-don’t really N-know m-me, so you d-don’t n-know.”
Dean smirked at the adorable attempt of an indignant tone that was ruined by
the stutter. “Oh? So by day you’re just some a mild mannered high school
student but at night you’re some super-secret, bad ass troublemaker? I’m
impressed. You should have your own comic book.”
"No one should be hurting you like that."
"B-but th-they d-do." he shrugged, his eyes firmly planted on the wall. The
beating wasn’t the worst thing Dean could find out about, Cas rationalized.
Sure, he got hit sometimes, so what? It wasn’t like he had any control over
Russ and Fran’s distaste for him or the things they did. Dean probably would’ve
figured that out eventually, anyway.
“I…I em-embarrassed th-them in fr-front of th-their fr-friends.”
“What did you do that was so embarrassing? You piss on the rug or something?”
“I…I for-forgot t-to mow th-the lawn.”
Dean’s anger started to rise, a hot, pink flush appeared in his cheeks. “So?”
 
He sighed heavily. How could someone like Dean, who intimidated everyone, begin
understand the demands his foster parents forced him to live under? Dean’s
father seemed like a pretty okay guy and anyway, he was positive that Dean
would never tolerate anyone treating him the way Russ and Fran treated him.
Cas wormed his way free out of the closeness of Dean’s smell. “Got-gotta go t-
to cuh-class.”
“Cas, we need to talk about this.”
“Th-there’s n-nothing t-to t-talk ab-bout.” He looked back at Dean with sad
eyes before pushing the door open.
“Cas! Cas! Come back here. C’mon.” Dean called out to him as the door swung
shut.
 
Cas had successfully managed to avoid seeing Dean for the rest of the day and
he didn’t show up at the Impala after school for a ride home. It pissed Dean
off something fierce that they were…fighting. He guessed that would be a fight
if Cas wasn't talking to him. The rain was starting to come down harder and he
hated to think that Cas was walking all that way home in this weather.
 
It didn’t take too long for him to find Cas en route to his house. The kid was
predictable, a kidnappers dream.
Dean rolled up on Cas and pushed the passenger door open.
“Cas, get in the car.”
Cas stopped and glanced in the car. “I...I'm oak-kay. It…it’s only r-raining a
lit..little.”
“Get in the damn car, Cas.” Dean said, firmly, not taking no for an answer.
With reluctance, Cas eased himself into the car, wincing as his ass and thighs
made contact with the leather seat.
"Look, about earlier..."
“N-not t-talking ab-about th-that. P-please?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, you know. It was wrong and I'm sorry.”
"You...you were wr-wrong? I...I d-don't b-believe it." Cas teased.
"Not me. I'm never wrong. But what I did was."
Sam laughed from the back seat. "He must have screwed up big. He never
apologizes for anything."
"Shut up, Sammy."
***** Chapter 16 *****
It was 5 in the morning when the front door to the rundown house flew open ,
letting in a gust of cool fall air startling the two boys that were dozing on
the couch watching TV.
“Damn it, Dean. Why the hell isn’t Sammy in bed? Isn’t it a school night?” John
growled as he hobbled through the door, by side was his old friend Bobby Singer
supporting his injured friend.
Dean’s green eyes scanned his angry, wounded, limping father over as Sam jolted
up next to him nervously chewing his lip. “Dad? Dad? Bobby, what happened?”
John grumbled. “Nothing for either of you to worry about. What you should be
worried about is that It’s almost time for Sammy to be getting up and your
brother hasn’t been to bed.”
Sam scattered to the far end of the room, hugging the wall. Seeing his dad
banged up like that terrified him to no end, it was scarier than any monster
he’d ever been made to research.
A still sleepy Dean stood up and rushed over to help Bobby get his father to
the couch. “Didn’t realize the time, we were watching some movies…”
Sam remained off to the side. “Dad, are you alright?”
Bobby threw a smirk toward his old friend. “Threw out his back. This idjit
thinks he’s your age. The pain’ll help remind him that he’s not.”
John started to protest. “Eh. I’m fine. Just… twisted something.”
Bobby shook his head. “Doc says he needs to rest. Stay off his feet for a
while.”
“You went to a doctor?” Dean sounded surprised. His father never saw a doctor
no matter how banged up he May have gotten. Often Dean had played medic,
patching up his dad’s less serious wounds.
“Just need an aspirin and a beer is all.”
“Wasn’t what the doc said.” Bobby muttered wearily, annoyed that his friend
would ignore the doctors suggestion.
“Everything go okay here?” John asked as he propped his feet up on the rickety
coffee table.
Both boys muttered a “Yes, sir.”
Noticing Both boys had a worried look in their eyes, Bobby rattled off a list
of things for Sam and Dean to fetch, giving them something to do, things that
would help make John more comfortable and keep the boys busy and the boys
scattered.
Out of nowhere Sam had begun to cry, sniffling as he collected blankets and
pillows for his dad. Hearing the low sniffling Dean stopped as he passed their
father’s bedroom. “Sam. Sammy? What’s the matter?”
Sam wiped his eyes and sniffed again. “N-nothing.”
Dean mentally applauded the attempt of the lie “Yeah. No. What is it? Is it
Dad?
“What if Uncle Bobby wasn’t there to help dad? What would happen to us, D?”
“But he was.”
Dean sighed. This was familiar territory, fortunately though it wasn’t often
but it always happened whenever Sammy saw their father injured. He sat Sam down
on the bed and knelt down in front of him.
“Hey. Hey. Dad’s gonna be fine. Dad’s always gonna be fine. That’s nothing.
Just hurt his back is all. Anyway, in case… if he….whatever. I’ll be here,
Sammy. I’m not going anywhere. You never have to worry about anything as long
as I’m around.”
“But you’re not dad.”
It was true. He wasn’t their father and he had no good reply for his brother.
He thought long and hard for something to say, pulling his brother into a hug
instead.
After Sam and John were fast asleep, Dean snuck back downstairs and found Bobby
in the living room, reading.
“What happened out there tonight, Bobby?”
“Don’t you have homework to do or something?”
“C’mon, Bobby…”
“A violent spirit… wasn’t an easy job. Surprised us. John got thrown pretty
hard. That’s why I’m gonna stick around here for a bit. Make sure he stays
put.”
“You’re gonna stay with us? Here?”
“No. I thought I’d sleep in the truck.”
Dean smiled. He liked when Bobby was around. Bobby staying meant that maybe,
just maybe, he’d be able to get some time alone with Castiel, without Sam.
"Now get to sleep. The Sun'll be up soon. You want to chit chat, we'll do it in
the daylight."
For a moment the roughed up state that John arrived home in took Dean’s mind
off of Cas but he was quickly brought back to reality once he got to school.
As it was with most mornings, Cas was lingering around Dean’s locker, waiting
for his friend to arrive. Dean liked seeing how Cas’s bright blue eyes would
light up his face first thing in the morning. It was a good start to what would
otherwise be a crap day.
After some idle chit chat the bell had rung, forcing them to go their separate
ways but not before making plans to meet up for lunch.
“Guess he’s into freak shows.” Dean heard someone mutter as he made his way to
class. He took a deep breath and tried his damnedest not to react. Comments
like that pissed him off but lately he’d been getting better at ignoring them.
 
Any other time he would ram his fist into the annoyance and shut it up but with
dad being not feeling well and the thing with Cas…he knew he needed to keep his
nose clean to ensure his freedom so he could continue to do what he needed to
do.
What Dean was really looking forward to was having his relationship with Cas
move forward, not that he had any real expectations but he couldn’t very well
reap the benefits if he were under house arrest.
 
By the time lunch finally rolled around, Dean was ready to leave. Upon meeting
Cas at his car, he asked, “Wanna get outta here?”
 
Cas looked back at the brick building and nodded, eagerly.
“Anywhere you wanna go?” Dean asked after they both were seated inside the car.
Cas shrugged. He didn’t care where they went just as long as he was with Dean.
“Is there anything fun to do around here?”
One place came to mind, a place that he had heard Harding mention once or twice
in passing. “Th-there’s an arc-cade if you-you’re into th-that.”
“Oh yeah? That could be fun.” The place was not as private as Dean had hoped
but at least it was something, an idea, from his seldom opinionated friend.
 
They walked around the arcade and played a few games, even playing a little air
hockey before Dean’s stomach started to rumble. He left Cas with a few quarters
and went to find food.
Dean was only gone a couple minutes when a large figure slithered over next to
Castiel.
“Well, well, well, Look who we have here."
No. No. No. Please, God, not now.
Cas froze instantly at the voice. His eyes instinctively dropped to the ground
and his insides shook violently. Harding was standing too close to him.
The harsh voice whispered, lips brushed against his ear. “Whatcha doing here?
You behaving yourself, boy?”
Cas stammered his reply, praying Dean would hurry back and save him from the
conversation.
“What was that, boy? I didn’t hear you.” Harding smirked at the terrified teen.
His authority over the boy evident, his cock twitched with interest from the
fear. He placed his heavy hand on Cas' shoulder, making the boy feel even more
trapped.
Cas spoke up, never raising his eyes. “Ye-yes, Sir.”
“That’s a good boy. That’s what I like to hear. Mmmhmm." He nodded his approval
at the cute boy. "I need to be visiting you real soon.”
Cas swallowed hard, still trembling. That was the last thing he wanted to come
from his outing was a future visit from Harding.
"Puh- please d-don't t-tell I wuh-was here." Cas whispered.
The boy had a secret and Harding definitely liked knowing that. "Nah I won't
tell on ya, boy. S'long as you're extra nice next time."
Dean interrupted the unusual pair, eyeing the larger man with suspicion. He
held out the can of soda to his friend.“Hey, Cas I got you a soda.”
“I’ll see you real soon, boy.” There was cruelty in Harding’s tone.
Dean watched as the rough looking man turned and vanished into the crowd. “Was
that guy bothering you?”
Cas stepped closer to Dean, needing to feel his safety close to him and he
gripped the edges of his coat. “Ca-can w-we get out of here, p-p-please?”
Wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, Dean tried to ease the trembling.
Dean was curious about what had transpired in the five minutes he was gone but
Cas' fear-filled eyes were the only reason he let it go for the moment. He'd
get little out of his friend in the state he was in.
“Yeah... sure. Anything you want.”
***** Chapter 17 *****
The smell of something cooking hit Dean as the boys walked through the door.
"Smells good, Bobby. Whatcha making?"
After spending the day picking up after John and the boys, Bobby was grumbling
all over the house.
"Don't try your flattering on me. Boy, you're old enough to pick up your
clothes off the bathroom floor." Bobby scowled at Dean "Hamper ain't but 3 feet
away."
Dean and Sam headed for the stairs.
"And, Dean?
Dean stopped.
"Got a call from a Mr. Parsons today. Was wondering if you were sick. Seems you
hadn't been to class for some time."
Sam giggled."Busted."
"Uh...about that..." Dean thought hard trying to find his lie.
"Don't worry. I didn't bother telling your daddy. Figure he needs his strength.
Can't use it all up on chewing your ass out."
"Thanks, Bobby."
"But I did promise that Mr. Parson's that you're over your cold and plenty
healthy to be back in class tomorrow. So I expect you don't make a liar outta
me."
Dean nodded in understanding. Bobby had saved him from a lot of grief. "I'll go
to class tomorrow."
"Why weren't you today?
Dean shrugged. He didn’t know how much of anything his dad ever told Bobby.
"Why the face, kid?" Bobby asked.
"Huh? What?" Dean wasn't present. His thoughts had returned to thinking about
Cas again.
"Relationship troubles?"
Dean shrugged, the worry was still painted all over his face. "Something like
that."
"Your dad said you're pretty sweet on this one."
A slight grin rose from the younger man's lips.
"So what's the matter?"
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Well, if you ever want to talk... I'm here."
Knowing that Dean wasn't going to talk, Bobby dropped the questions . The kind
of kid dean was, He'd carry the weight of the world in silence if need be but
Bobby would be willing to listen if and when the kid was ready to spiil.
***** Chapter 18 *****
Slipping the key into the door, he had barely gotten inside when he heard Fran
yelling at him.“Go to your room and get yourself ready. Someone's coming by for
you.”
Cas froze in the doorway. It wasn’t the weekend yet and he never had to
entertain guests during the week.
“D-d-did I d-d-do some-something wr-wrong?” he croaked out, his voice shaky.
Sighing, Fran dismissed his question and looked at the clock, “You're wasting
time, Cas.ti.el. You don't want to make your guest wait, now, do you?”
“B-but I have m-my ch-chores and home-homework t-to d-do.” Not that having
homework or chores would keep him from what he was really there for.
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? With all the slacking you do around here, now
you worry about chores? Just do as you’re told.”
"Yes, Ma'am," Castiel nodded and headed to his bedroom. After he dumped his
books, he slowly got undressed, folding each piece of clothing as they came
off, and placed them in a pile on the floor. Once he was finished, he sat on
his bed with his back to the door and took a few deep breaths before presenting
his wings, like the good little whore he was.
He didn't know how long he sat, naked and cold before the door opened. His
heart began to beat in a panic when he heard the man's deep voice.
“Hello again, my naughty whore," Harding chuckled, "You know what happens to
little whores who disobey, don't you, slut?"
Castiel hurriedly got to himself in Harding's preferred position, he fought his
conditioning to he steal a quick glance and saw Harding grinning in the
doorway, leering at his form.
He began to feel his blue eyes fill up with frightened tears, “Puh-puh- please.
You wuh wuh won’t tell on me, wuh wuh will you?”
Harding shushed him, removing his clothes as he moved toward the boy. Taking a
seat on the bed, Harding grinned down at his purchase, patting his now naked
lap, “You’re gonna sit right here and we're gonna talk about all the things
you're gonna do to keep your little secret between us.”
Complying instantly, Castiel swallowed his fear and scrambled onto Harding’s
lap, his back facing the gruff man, as his wings fluttered nervously against
the man’s skin.
Harding hands immediately reached for the wings, threading his fingers through
the downy feathers. He spoke in a low whisper, directly into Castiel’s ear as
he luxuriated in their softness, "Tell me, was that your little boyfriend I saw
you with today?"
Cas really didn’t want to talk about Dean, not with this man. Dean was
something good and Harding was merely something he had to endure, “N-n-no,
sir.”
“He play with this little slutty hole,” Harding used his fingers to tease
around Cas' little puckered hole.
“N-n-no, Sir,” Cas started to squirm on Harding's lap as *that* feeling once
again began to flow throughout his body. He left out how he wanted to, figuring
that would not help the current situation.
He toyed with the boy’s body, one hand stroking the soft, young flesh while the
other continued to pay special attention to the sensitive wings until he had
the boy quivering and mewling like a hungry cat, “That is a shame. I guess
pretty boys like that don't want to stick their dicks into winged freaks.
Doesn't know what he's missing out on, though. You think of him when you’re
jerking off, though, don’t ya?”
Cas nodded absently. He thought of Dean all the time. Thinking of Dean made him
happy. With his wings trembling against Harding’s naked skin along wit his big
fingers working their way to opening him and the thoughts of Dean started
making his cock drip.
Harding ordered for him to lean forward so he could work the head of his cock
into the eager hole, “Gonna ride me like the good, winged slut you are. Only
thing you need to think about from now on is keeping me happy.”
Harding let out a gasp as Castiel started to ease back, allowing the length of
the cock to slide inside of him, “Been thinking about making Russ an offer for
you. It could be like this all the time, just me and you. Wouldn't have to be
so rough on you once you're trained up to my liking."
The words made Cas freeze mid-decent on Harding's cock. Would Russ do that?
Would he really consider selling him? The possibility made him shiver. His body
could never handle the man’s brutality on a regular basis.
A brutal tug on his wings took Castiel out of his thoughts and as Harding
continued to fondling his wings, he rode them both to climax.


The sun was just beginning to shine through the windows of Castiel’s bedroom
when he was crudely dragged from his bed. Still asleep, his eyes shot open and
he quickly began to stammer apologies. How he could manage to piss anyone off
while he was sleeping he’d never know.
Fran tugged at his hair and growled for him to pipe down as she marched him
down the hall by the back of his collar toward the bathroom. Fran roughly
pushed the boy down on the top of the toilet seat.
“Don’t move,” She barked as she moved his head this way and that, assessing the
damage on Castiel’s face.
She snorted in irritation, noting that the boy’s black eye would be the most
difficult to conceal. She had a busy morning ahead of her and didn’t have time
for this shit. She quickly began to dig around bathroom vanity looking for some
old makeup to do the job.
“Can’t have you showing up to school looking like this. Damn, that Harding.
What did you do to piss him off so bad, huh?”
He didn’t have to do much to get a beating from Harding; just breathing seemed
to be enough to get a rise out of him but this time, this time it was purely
for self preservation. Harding had made several demands during his time with
Castiel, demands that he was too nervous not to agree to. The following week,
Harding wanted to see Castiel while the boy was supposed to be in school.
 
"An educated whore is as useless as tits on a bull. We could put that time to
better use, couldn't we?"
"Buh...buh... but Ssssir..."

“Don't talk back to me,” Harding growled throwing a vicious backhand at the
kid, knocking him sideways, “You'll do it. You've found a way to sneak around
with your pretty friend. You'll figure out how to comply with my orders too."
Cas sniffled back the pain, "Yes, sir."
Harding eyed the full, trembling lips and the glassy eyes, "Now, how should I
impress upon you that I do not tolerate disrespect from my whores, huh,
Castiel?"
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he slid off the sweat soaked lap and
reached for Harding's discarded pants. He pulled the thick black leather
through the belt loops. The silver buckle was heavy in his hands. He knew the
kind of damage that would inflict. That kind of pain would linger under his
skin for days. He knelt with the belt in his hand, making sure his back was
straight, his knees spread to display, eyes down submissively before he
presented the weapon for Harding's approval.
Harding chuckled his approval, "Ever have your wings whipped, slut?"
Cas' eyes widened in horror,"NnnnNo, sir."
Harding grinned,"Heard it hurts even more than having those tender little
grapes stomped on. Why don't we find out? Stay on your knees, forehead on the
floor."
Head down and ass up, once again, resigned to his fate. Castiel shut his eyes
and his wings trembled, waiting for the sound before blow.
Swishhhhhhh.
Crack.


And mercifully, his world faded to black.
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