Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13104609.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel_(Supernatural), Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      So_it_was_PWP_but_plot_has_started_to_insert_itself, ;)_way-hey, Destiel
      -_Freeform, they're_both_seventeen, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School,
      High_School_Student_Dean, High_School_Student_Castiel, Sex_Worker
      Castiel, Smut, Angst_and_Fluff_and_Smut
  Series:
      Part 3 of Rules_Meant_To_Be_Broken
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-24 Words: 4813
****** Fast Times At Lawrence High ******
by Chaz_1789
Summary
     Mean Girls? No, Mean Gods! What the fuck, universe?
Notes
     Again, this series really will only make any semblance of sense when
     read in chronological order.
See the end of the work for more notes
Cas was an idiot, idiot, idiot!!
The fuck had he been thinking?! Yeah, of course it made perfect sense to give
up a hundred and fifty dollars over a damn crush! Well, a hundred and ninety,
technically. And that wasn't including the motel.
And now he was trudging miles home in his tight work clothes because he'd been
dumb enough to fall asleep in those strong, safe, warm arms. Well, that was a
bit unfair – more like he'd been fucked into unconsciousness. It was not under
his control that he'd passed out.
It wasn't as if he'd missed out on other business though, the rest of the night
had been clear. He'd planned (or hoped for) nothing beyond meeting Dean and
riding him like a stallion. And that he had done. Well, you know, before Dean
had flipped them over and...and made love to him. Because that hadn't been
fucking. Castiel knew fucking. That had been something else entirely.
And that something else made his stomach flutter and his ears hot, even in the
cool air of dawn.
Cas was as much to blame for how he was feeling now, though. When he'd woken up
several hours after passing out in a glorious haze, he'd been in no rush to get
out of bed. Cas had just laid there and basked in the afterglow, reveling in
Dean's scent, adoring the closeness, the miles of warm skin. He'd noted the
fine stubble just coming in on his jaw and the little bump on the bridge of his
nose. He'd spent hours just looking. And, after he'd torn himself away to make
sure he'd be out of there before Dean woke up (because Cas was a complete
coward) he'd placed a gentle kiss on his sleeping lover's forehead.
Then set down forty dollars. Then paid for the room. Then fled.
He arrived home, tired and sore and...his mom was drunk. He could smell the
liquor as soon as he entered the house – fucking fantastic. Dread already
starting to cloak him, Cas pushed the door open wider and it scraped against a
piece of paper on the floor which he picked up. His heart sank.
It was an eviction notice. It certainly wasn't the first one he'd ever seen,
but– no this time was supposed to have been different. He'd made sure it was
different; Cas had started turning tricks for exactly this reason! And it'd
been working! He was scraping together money so that they could make the rent
and he and Anna could stay in the same fucking school for longer than four
months.
Cas strode through to the lounge and saw his mother slumped on the couch,
bottle in one hand, burnt out cigarette in the other. What a picture. A
familiar, depressing picture.
"Have you just not been paying the rent?!" he barked and she jolted awake at
his voice.
"Huh?"
"Have you not been paying the rent?!" he repeated. He got a small hit of
satisfaction at the way she cringed at his volume.
"What's that?" she asked, eyes bleary but focusing on the paper in his hand as
she pushed herself up on the sofa.
"It's an eviction notice. Why are they evicting us?"
"Landlord's an asshole," his mother grumbled, "don't have the money."
"You have the money! I've been putting cash in the jar, how has that not been
enough?!"
"And where you been getting all that cash, huh?" his mother asked darkly,
deflecting the conversation expertly and turning a judgemental eye on him. Like
she was in any position to fucking judge him.
"I've been working," he said in clipped tones, trying not to look ashamed.
"And what sorta job would pay you that kinda money, Cas?" she needled, looking
at him like he was something disgusting. He didn't need help feeling like that.
"We both know neither of us wants to get where this conversation goes, so how
about it stops right here?" he said, adjusting his too-tight shirt and wishing
he'd fixed his sex hair. God, he reeked of it. He should have showered at the
motel.
"How long we got?" she rasped, nodding towards the notice.
"A week," said Cas hotly, resigned to what his job now was. "I'll try and find
us a place somewhere close."
He walked towards his room but paused in the doorway as his eyes fell on the
paper that read 'Anna's Room' in glittery blue pen. He turned to his waste of a
mother once more. "You can't keep putting Anna through this, Mom. She deserves
better."
And with that he took himself to his cramped, moldy bedroom and attempted to
replay the nicer parts of last night to wipe out the bad taste of this morning.
The thing was, as great as being with Dean had felt, he couldn't be anything
more. Cas still needed to turn tricks. This was still the reality of his life.
And now they had to move. Again.
He rolled onto his side and fell asleep wishing that he wished he'd taken some
money for last night.
                                 — – - • - – —

He found a place. Not a nice place –they never were– but a cheap place that
didn't look too closely at its tenants. It still meant a deposit though, and
that was going to mean a concerted week of working for him. He might even need
to try and hit up some of his old regulars from his previous stomping grounds.
Ugh, he was tired just thinking about it.
And it also meant another new school. He was so fucking sick of being the new
guy. Normally, the technique of keeping his head down and staying quiet tended
to work quite well at drawing no attention, making no attachments. It meant no
one would bat an eye once he left. There'd be no loose ends. No disappointment.
Except Anna wasn't like that. Anna was bubbly, friendly and outgoing. She made
friends without even trying and every single school move just broke her little
heart again and again. Cas had practically raised her since their dad left, and
at eight years she was far too young to have to deal with all the shit life was
heaping on her.
Cas? Well, Cas had accepted long ago that his childhood was over. It wasn't
fair, but it was the way of things. He was just lucky they were both smart
enough to handle the schoolwork that they were given. If all coasted along as
it had been then Cas would graduate without issue and hopefully find full time,
legitimate work that would get him off the streets.
Moving day came and went, and Castiel mourned the loss of a potential weekend
to see Dean again. He wondered if Dean had gone to the bar only to find that
Cas was absent. But what the hell would he even say to him if he did go back to
Axel's after Cas gave back the money, paid for the motel room and hightailed it
out of there before Dean woke up?! No, much better that it was over and done
with, with a couple of fond memories to squirrel away for lonely nights. He'd
be too far away to work that location again anyway. New school, new house, new
customers.
Cas was just finishing off the paperwork for Anna's new school (like his mom
would ever do it, ha!) when the little flame-haired angel herself appeared
around the corner and smiled at him sheepishly.
"What's up, little bean?" asked Cas.
"Will you...will you still take me to my first day?" she asked.
"Don't I always, kiddo? This one's pretty close, so we can walk it." He smiled.
"Thanks," said Anna quietly. Her eyes were slightly red. Cas stood and gave her
a big hug.
"No need to thank me, it's what big brothers are for." And parents. But Anna
and Cas didn't really have those anymore. So he'd do his best. He wanted to
comfort her, to reassure her that this would be the last move for a while, but
he'd learned long ago that that was a promise he couldn't keep – therefore one
he shouldn't make.
"You want pasta for dinner? I was gonna cook some up." Anna nodded against his
shirt and, smiling, he ruffled her hair in a way he knew she hated.
                                 — – - • - – —
He barely made it to school their first day. Walking Anna has been a hell of a
detour, and then she'd needed some comforting before he was able to take off to
get to his new campus. Cas panted as he jogged up the stairs to his first
class, vaguely missing one of his previous schools that had been all on one
level, although he couldn't pinpoint which one it had been.
Puffing, he knocked on the closed door of E16 and opened it, into what his
timetable told him would be English Lit.
"Sorry I'm late," he mumbled quietly. The teacher was a short, scruffy looking
guy in his thirties, by Cas's estimation, who seemed supremely un-fussed about
his tardiness.
"Class, everybody say hi to our new student..." he looked down at his register
notes "..Castiel Novak." He didn't seem surprised at the total lack of response
he got from his senior class. "Okay, well, I'm Mr Shurley, just take any of the
free desks over there." He indicated three empty desks at the back of the room
and, as Cas looked up, his eyes fell on a familiar face. A painfully familiar
handsome face. Although it was wearing an unfamiliar expression: pure terror.
It was Dean.
Dean was at his school. Dean was sitting in his English Lit class. Dean was
looking for all the world like he'd seen a ghost.
The class murmured slightly and Cas realized he may have been staring a bit. He
lowered his head and motored past all the students until he was seated the
furthest away from Dean he could be – which was only two rows behind, but hey,
he tried – and attempted desperately to concentrate on his work, not on how his
heart rate was somewhere in the mid thousands.
What the fuck were the fucking odds?! What were the fucking, fucking, fuckity,
fucking fu– oh shit, Dean was turning back to look at him. And Cas couldn't
look away. He wanted to, but just physically couldn't. Blushing, he held the
shocked and questioning green stare and tried to say 'I have as much idea how
this happened as you do, buddy' with his eyes.
One of the jock types sitting next to Dean nudged his elbow and drew his
attention back to the class and Cas began to breathe again. He took out his
notebook and tried to listen to what Mr Shurley was saying, but his eyes kept
straying to the short, light brown hair on the back of a certain head.
Whatever deity there may or may not be in the heavens, they had a sick, twisted
sense of humor.
After an interminable hour the bell rang and Cas sprang to his feet, desiring
to get away from Dean as quickly as possible. It wasn't that he was afraid that
Dean might say something, oh no, it was because Cas was all different kinds of
embarrassed about what he himself had done the last time they'd met.
Cas had never done that with a customer before and had absolutely no idea of
how to deal with his feelings on the situation. He'd not wanted anything
between them to have been paid for. With Dean it felt different, at least it
did to Cas, and if he only ever let himself have those two times, they sure as
hell weren't going to be transactions.
He knew full well that his emotional range only usually extended from mistrust
to disdain to resignation ninety percent of the time. He wasn't a warm and
fuzzy person. Well, to anyone except Anna. So he was thoroughly dreading the
potential conversation where he might have to explain his undeniably warm and
fuzzy behaviour. At least Dean didn't know about the forehead kiss. He hoped.
It took less time than he'd hoped for Dean to track him down. It was nearing
the end of morning recess and he'd finally located his locker when a strong
hand looped around his upper arm and he was dragged into a disabled bathroom
close by along the corridor before he could protest. The door was clunked shut
and Cas backed up to the nearest wall, attempting to lean nonchalantly, as Dean
turned to face him.
There was an interlude of solid staring. Which, Cas noted, was becoming a bit
of a thing with them. Dean's big, warm, green eyes looked even better in the
natural light glinting through the small window. In fact, all of him did. This
was the first time they'd met in daylight. Cas's chest ached with something
deep; He convinced himself it was indigestion.
Cas decided then to break the silence and redirected his focus to a bit of
graffiti on the wall instead of the demigod before him.
"Hmm, bathroom. Bit of a downgrade from motel," he attempted to say casually.
"I–I...whatch'ya doin' here Cas?"
"Matriculating. What do you think?!" Cas snapped, although at the moment all he
was learning was how many balls a Mr Crowley sucks and who loves whom '5eva'.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean's fists clenching nervously.
"Look, I can't– no one here knows about me," Dean blurted out, bluntly. "I
just, you won't say anything will you?" He sounded genuinely panicked. Cas
scoffed.
"What the hell do you think I'd say? 'Yeah, Dean here likes dick. I know
because I'm the hooker who took his gay cherry'?" Dean flinched. Cas might have
overdone it on the snark, but he was pretty dang nervous too. He took a breath.
"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. You hired me to be discreet, and I
am."
Dean looked only marginally less fraught. "How come you're doing that anyway?"
"Why does anyone do it? We need the money."
"Then why did you..." he searched for the right words, "give me a refund?"
Christ, and there it was. Cas blushed hotly and tried to remain aloof, although
that was a pretty tall order. He hadn't rationalized it to himself properly,
how was he supposed to explain it to Dean without sounding like a complete
assbutt?
"Oh. Yeah well," Cas rubbed the back of his neck, thoroughly embarrassed, "I–I
figured you kinda gave me as good as you got, so there was no need to charge
you."
Dean squinted at him. "Is that a really screwed up way of saying you liked it?"
"Maybe."
"That you like me?"
"Possibly."
"Huh." Quiet stuffed itself into the small room, filling up the gaps between
them. Cas didn't dare look at Dean just then; no way was he strong enough to
guarantee he wouldn't say or do anything moronic.
The bell rang, tearing through the silence.
"We should probably get to class," said Cas, after Dean didn't make to move
right away.
"Oh, right, yeah," he paused and then, "Nice to officially meet you Castiel
Novak."
"Please, just Cas," Cas said, still looking anywhere but green, "and it's nice
to officially meet you too Dean...?"
"Winchester," Dean said with a small smile playing on his lips that Cas found
it hard to ignore or look away from.
It felt so weird to be standing there at school, oddly formal with the guy
whose dick he'd been riding only a week and a half ago. There was one more beat
of staring before Dean finally made for the door and left.
Cas took a deep breath then slumped limply against the grubby tile. New school,
new problems. And one hot as fuck closeted jock whom he'd seen naked. Just
spec–freakin–tacular.
                                 — – - • - – —
Contrary to Castiel's usual Invisibility Policy, Dean seemed to be in
everybody's line of sight. Which, you know, he couldn't blame them for but it
did mean that he was always busy and surrounded by people. Whether it was his
friends, his teammates, or heart-eyed girls there was always someone impeding
Cas's ability to talk to him. Which would have been nice, he'd never gone to a
school where he already knew somebody.
He settled for watching Dean instead from a safe distance. Ha! As if it was a
choice in the first place, his eyes could not seem to focus elsewhere if Dean
was in the general vicinity. And, as if the universe felt it needed to make
Dean even more attractive, Cas saw him stop to help a gawky looking freshman
pick up his books after he'd tripped ("Coordinated as ever, Garth." "You know
it!"). Then stay behind after class to help Ms Moseley tidy her classroom. Then
stop one of his meathead friends from teasing another student. Cas was even
starting to get a little pissed off at how perfect he seemed.
But bar the whole Adonis ex–john in class thing, the rest of his week was
filled with all the usual dullness of first weeks at new schools. That Friday,
as Cas made his way across the parking lot adjacent to the school gym en route
to his new home, he spotted an unmistakable vehicle –one with a couple of very
nice memories attached– sat alone in one corner of the empty lot.
Cas cast a quick glance around in case someone, or Dean, was about, but most of
the students seemed to have left already. Nothing was stopping Cas from just
continuing on his way home. In fact it would be sensible. he'd need to make
sure he was home before three thirty to be there when Anna got back from
school, not to mention making dinner and going to work. And there was
absolutely no rational reason to consider walking into the gym.
But like a dumbass he was considering...and then he was doing.
The door creaked as he pushed it open and he spotted a sign to the boy's locker
room pointing left. Not knowing who else might be in the building, Cas tried to
look as casual as possible when he entered, attempting to make it appear like
he was just having a look around and not hoping to find a certain someone in
the gym locker room.
And Yahtzee, that certain someone was sitting on a bench by the rows of
lockers. Cas paused in the doorway. Dean was bowed forward with his head in his
hands, seemingly lost in thought, and Cas began to reevaluate his decision to
come in here. But just as he thought he should shuffle on out of there, Dean
rubbed his face and then looked up, jumping in his seat as he spotted Cas
hanging out creepily in the doorway. Way to go, Cas, you were just standing
here silently staring at him - you mustn't look Hitchcockian at all! He smiled
to try and make his presence less weird, but it felt pretty weak.
"Your 'roided up beast of a car is still in the lot. I wanted to check you
hadn't drowned in the shower," he said, trying like hell not to sound too
unsettling.
Dean's surprise quickly faded and he smiled back. "Hey, Baby is all natural!
But, sorry to disappoint if you came in here hoping to find me in the shower."
"Not gonna lie, that wouldn't have been a terrible outcome," said Cas, arching
an eyebrow. It was so easy to fall back into flirting with Dean. He leaned
casually against the doorjamb. "So let me guess, football? Or is it too
optimistic to hope wrestling team?" he asked with a leer.
"Actually, today it was track."
"Aw shucks," he said drily.
"But I am on the football team. And I may have wrestled a bit too," said Dean,
looking a little smug.
Cas's mind immediately flooded with definitely non–PG images of Dean in tight
spandex wrestling guys to the ground and he bit his lip then grinned.
"Do you think you could show me a couple of moves?"
"What moves are you interested in?"
"Pinning," said Cas, smiling even wider, sauntering into the room.
Dean stood, walked the short distance to Cas and before Cas had even registered
the proximity Dean had his arm drawn behind his back and his front pinned to
the nearest row of lockers. Dean wasn't being rough enough to hurt, but Cas
sure as shit couldn't move.
"Wow, you're fast," Cas he mumbled into the locker. "Show me another." Quick as
a flash Cas ended up on his front on the floor this time. Now that had hurt
slightly, these were tiles not mats after all. He grunted. But then he felt
Dean's semi against the back of his upper thigh. Very deliberately he raised
his hips and ground back into Dean, who groaned quietly.
"Am I doing it right?" asked Cas, continuing to grind, feeling the bulge
against his butt grow harder.
"Not standard technique," quipped Dean, starting to sound a little breathy,
"but it would sure throw off your opponent." He felt his hair ruffle as Dean's
head dipped to nuzzle lightly against the back of Cas's neck, and at the slight
easing of the hold Cas took advantage and pushed back with all his might.
Success! Dean was knocked back off him onto his butt, his back against the
lockers, and Cas swung his legs over Dean's hips, planting himself firmly on
his lap. He looked Dean dead in the eye and bore down hard.
Dean groaned, his eyelids flickering. "Unorthodox but effective," he grunted,
his hands swinging up to Cas's hips. "You thinkin' about trying out for the
team?"
"That's not what I'm thinking about, no," Cas muttered, drinking in Dean's
gorgeous face. Fuck, he was so beautiful.
He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking down to those full, pink lips and back up.
If Dean didn't want him to do this Cas gave him ample opportunity to say so.
But Dean didn't say a word, he just let Cas keep on coming until their mouths
met softly.
The press of their lips set sparks off in Castiel's brain. And stomach. And
pants. He hummed into their kiss as they increased the pressure of it, tongues
and teeth coming in to play. They pushed into each other, pressing as much of
their bodies together as possible.
Cas's stomach swooped as Dean's arms wrapped about him, softly pressing fingers
into his back. They were strong arms; strong and secure and gentle. Before
Dean, Cas wouldn't have equated 'gentle' with sexy but it was definitely a
trait that just made this Calvin Klein model even more godamn irresistible.
God, Cas could kiss Dean forever. But another part of his anatomy was straining
to get some attention, especially when he circled his hips and felt the hard
jut of Dean's own arousal under his ass. He pulled back from Dean just far
enough to tackle his fly open and bunch his pants down to pull his erection out
of it's denim prison.
Dean hissed as Cas encircled him with his fist and stroked gently. After a few
strokes he grabbed for Cas's belt almost violently and drew Cas's dick into his
large hand. The rough drag of his callouses felt exquisite! Cas tipped his
forehead against Dean's to look down and watch their hands work each other.
He reached his free hand up to cup the side of Dean's jaw, running his thumb
against his kiss swollen lower lip, catching it with his nail. Dean's tongue
darted out to just swipe the tip of Castiel's thumb and the sight drove him
fucking crazy! He surged forward, so desperate to taste what he could of Dean,
wishing they could suck and rim and fuck, but at the same time, the feel of
Dean's hand pumping up the length of him felt kind of perfect too.
They broke apart to gasp for breath. The way Dean was flicking his wrist! Oh,
pure magic. Cas increased the speed of his own wrist and drew his left hand
under Dean's shirt to play with one perfect pink nipple. He'd seen them, he
knew they were perfect– just like everything else about this bastard. Dean let
out a rough huff of air, his hips bucking a bit. Oh, Cas would need to get his
mouth on them too one of these days.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean whispered out, roughly.
Hearing Dean talk like that may just cause spontaneous ejaculation, or maybe he
was just that gone for him, but Cas's orgasm snuck up on him so fast that all
he could do was grunt and grip Dean's shirt as he spilled copiously over Dean's
fist and clothes. He jerked and jolted in pleasure as he rode out his climax,
his head resting in the crook of Dean's shoulder, rasping out ragged breaths
through each aftershock.
It was an embarrassing display of Cas's staying power under Dean's hands yet
again. He'd barely had to touch Cas while fucking him before he'd come all
over, and this time...well. Let's just say it wasn't representative of his
usual stamina.
Dean's cock was still hot and hard in his hand though, and after a moment
recuperation he resumed stroking and twisting and pumping until Dean's breath
was coming in short, sharp bursts. Cas made sure to get a good look at his face
as Dean crested the peak and dug his nails into Cas's back, spurting his
release into the space between them. That face...that face should be carved
onto fucking mountains.
They stayed on the floor, sharing gentle kisses and using Dean's tee to wipe up
the mess (he insisted he had another one and Cas wasn't gonna complain about
Dean being shirtless for a bit). Yet again Cas was able to feel Dean's powerful
arms keeping him close, just holding him, and, yeah, there was possibly some
deeper shit in there about Cas craving affection because he didn't get enough,
but God fucking damn it, it felt nice! He wasn't gonna introspect that hard
about why he enjoyed being held after sex by a painfully attractive athlete –
because duh!
Cas had just started nibbling his way along Dean's jaw, feeling the reemergence
of tingles low down in his abdomen –thank fuck for hormones– when Dean spoke.
"Go out with me somewhere tonight?" he let out all in a rush, almost like he
was afraid to say it. Cas looked up.
"Tonight's kind of...not available..."
"Tomorrow then?"
"Weekends are sort of...business hours..." Dean looked sadly confused before
comprehension swiftly dawned and his shoulders slumped. "Sorry." No, he
shouldn't be apologizing. Cas would not apologize for his job.
"So you're still..."
"Yeah," he said, trying not to sound too exasperated. Dean knew what he did,
they'd met that way for fuck's sake! Why was he now acting like it was a nasty
surprise? Castiel felt irked. "I don't do it for fun or a drug habit or
anything," he said, irritated but feeling a stupid, compulsive need to justify
himself to Dean. "We need it."
"Why can't you get a regular job like other teenagers?"
"What fast food joint is gonna earn me a couple hundred bucks a weekend, huh?!"
he barked out, getting seriously pissed now.
"Two hundred...Cas, are you the only one bringing money in?" Dean asked
quietly. Cas really had no answer to that. He was, but he didn't want Dean to
know it. "Do your folks know?" Okay, this conversation had well and truly
jackknifed into no mans land.
"Look, I didn't come in here for a heart to heart, Dr Phil, so just mind your
own godamn business!" said Cas, levering himself up from Dean's lap and
aggressively doing up his fly.
"Whoa, whoa, ease up there Cas," Dean put his hands up placatingly and Cas
deflated somewhat at the pleading look on his face.
"Dean, I –" Cas sighed, he didn't want to fight with Dean. "I can't stop
working, okay? It's not just me at home and...and I do like you. But I can't do
what you're asking me."
"I only asked you out on a–"
"Do you want me to stop turning tricks?"
A silence followed, so thick it clogged his lungs. And there it was. The person
who was all of Cas's fantasies and dreams, who was funny and kind and sexy and
smart, who actually wanted him back and Cas couldn't have him.
Because his life didn't work like that. If it wasn't making him miserable he
wasn't allowed to have it.
"I thought so. Goodbye Dean." And with that, Cas walked out of the room,
leaving the tattered remnants of his hope behind him.
End Notes
     Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are what keep my
     heart beating and my fingers typing some days. This series looks to
     be maybe 6-7 parts long so far? It won't be fast but it will be
     complete! *smoulders determinedly off into the middle distance*
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!