Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5115089.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel, Dean_Winchester, Gabriel_(Supernatural), Meg_Masters,
      Bartholomew_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Halloween, Alternate_Universe, Teenagers, Teenage_Castiel/Teenage_Dean
      Winchester, Fluff, Angst, Coming_Out, House_Party, Underage_Drinking,
      Sexual_Roleplay, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Frottage, First_Kiss, Smut,
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, mild_homophobia, Hand_Jobs, Halloween_Costumes,
      Star_Trek_References, Friends_to_Lovers, Protective_Dean, First_Time,
      Implied_Bottom_Dean, Virgin_Castiel
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-31 Words: 2098
****** The Captain and His Commander ******
by Heavenly_Stellar
Summary
     They did say love makes you blind. Well. It makes you stupid, at
     least. Hence, Cas’ current predicament. Sixteen-year-old Cas Novak is
     attending his brother’s Halloween party in hopes of seeing Dean
     Winchester, but his costume causes more problems than it should.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 
Tonight is Halloween, a night wherein the dead come back to haunt the living.
But all that haunts sixteen-year-old Cas Novak is a freakishly large vomit
stain on the wall, beside the mantelpiece. Mr. and Mrs. Novak were away on a
business conference and Gabriel, the eldest of the two Novak brothers, has
seized the chance to go all out for Halloween. Gabriel plans to further fuel
his infamous reputation for being the host of hosts. Determined to the point
that he played hooky, stayed home and made preparations.
“Every detail counts, Cas-hopper!” Gabriel had crowed, rolling a barrel (God
knows where and how he managed to acquire one, and Cas would rather not know)
to the poolside. “You stayin’ tonight and having some fun?”
Cas had made a face. “No.”
But yet, here he is.
The pounding of the music reverberates through the house, so loud, that Cas can
feel it bone deep. His eyes search through the mass of teenagers, trying to
ignore the puke that dribbles down the wall nearby. Looking for Dean
Winchester, the reason that he is here.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean had approached Cast at his locker, after the bell had rung,
announcing the end of school. “Are you gonna be at Gabe’s party?”
Cas glanced up from packing his books away, momentarily stunned by Dean’s
sudden presence.
Dean was distractingly pretty, and Cas had pined for him for as long as he knew
of the other boy’s existence. Broad shoulders, thick biceps and bow legs.
Freckles and bottle-green eyes. Plump, pink, cupid’s bow shaped lips. Dean is
the loudest laugh, the brightest smile, the kindest heart. At least, that’s
what Cas thought of Dean and they did say love makes you blind.
Well. It makes you stupid, at least. Hence, Cas’ current predicament.
But that afternoon Dean had blushed, and Cas liked how pretty it looked on him,
then stammered, “I m-mean, of course you’re gonna be there. Hell, you live in
the same house, don’t you? So… uh, I’ll… I’ll see you there, then.”
“Yes, of course.”
Those words had flown from his mouth like a free-spirited bird escaping its
cage. He had actually never been to one of Gabriel’s parties, despite what Dean
thought. His friend Charlie Bradbury was always his saviour and alibi. Cas was
instantly nervous. But his apprehension was soothed by Dean’s wide and genuine
grin.
His eyes had that mischievous glimmer to them, and Cas knees went weak.  
Dean had tapped the lockers, like a judge’s gavel, and said, “Awesome.”
Yes, awesome, Cas thinks glumly.
A hand slams down on Cas’ shoulder, starling him. Scowling, he turns to face
the owner of the hand on him and groans internally. It’s Bartholomew. Due to
the slight sway to his body and the smell of beer permeating from him, Cas
gathers that Bart is definitely drunk enough to cause trouble.
“Heeeey, Cassie! How’s it goin’!? Y’know— I’ma just wonderin’, like…” Bart
drapes his arm round Cas’ shoulder. “Like, who the fuck are you all dressed up
as!?”
Cas glances down at his costume and becomes terribly aware of the prosthetic
pointed ears he borrowed from Charlie. He fiddles with his homemade
Starfleetcombadge.
“I’m…” he begins.
“Clarence!” Meg Masters throws herself at him, giggling madly and squeezing him
tight.
Her cloying scent makes Cas want to sneeze. He pats her back awkwardly. He and
Meg are what Charlie calls ‘frenemies’. When she takes an unsteady step
backward, Cas feels the need to cover her with a blanket, as she is very
scantily dressed. It is not that Cas doesn’t approve— he just fears that
someone might mistreat her.
Meg squints at him. “Who,” she pokes him in the chest. “are you meant to be?”
“Spock!” Cas answers, shouting over the music.
“Oh, yeah, yeah! Got it, big boy! Can you guess what I am!? I’m the Devil!
See!?” she poses and points at the sparkly red horns nestled in her hair, her
hot pants riding up her thighs.
Cas merely nods back.
“Waaaiit, what’re you!?” Bart leans in closer Cas.
Both Meg and Cas yell back, “SPOCK!”
“Ohhhhh, riiiiiiight,” Bart starts to bounce on the balls of his feet, sloppily
in time to the music. “From Star Wars!?”
“No, from—”
“Shit!” Bart interrupts, laughing. “Cassie, did not think you could get more
fuckin’ nerdier!”
Meg reaches over and tugs on Cas’ earlobe, and he flinches at her touch. “I
like ‘em! Like a fairy! And that’s too true, ain’t it?”
“Whaaaa?” Bart asks.
Meg tips her head back, eyes closing in exasperation. When she opens her eyes,
she grabs on to Bart’s shoulder and shakes him. “Cause’ he’s gay, dumbass!”
Cas freezes, mouth agape. It is like his soul detaches from his body, and he
can’t move or speak or even breathe.
Meg knows.
And she just told someone.
Someone that Cas didn’t trust with that particular piece of information.
Cas’ palms become sweaty and he trembles with nerves, not knowing what to do.
This isn’t how he wanted to come out. This shouldn’t have happened. It
shouldn’t be happening.
Bart frowns, shaking his head like he isn’t capable of processing what Meg had
just divulged. “Gay?” he looks at Cas with wide eyes.
Cas prays that both of them are too drunk to remember in the morning.
“You’re a fag!?”Bart cries, loud enough that heads turn in their direction.
Cas shrinks, heart in his throat.
Unexpectedly, somebody presses their body against his back— a light bump, a
declaration of their presence. Cas jolts.
“It’s me,” Dean Winchester murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of Cas’
ear.
Cas shudders, but otherwise remains silent and still. He sucks in a gasp when
Dean winds his arm around his middle, bracketing him in with a strong arm. Cas
welcomes the safe feeling that washes over him. His mind is a-buzz with the
possibilities and fantasies. Never before had he realised how much he wanted,
no, needed Dean to hold him.
Perhaps, he thinks, I have died and gone straight to Heaven.
“Is there a problem?” Dean asks, voice loud and authoritative.
“Uh, well,” Bart splutters.
“Because if you have a problem with Cas, then you got a problem with me too!”
Dean calls out, drawing Cas even closer, their bodies flush.
Meg eyes Dean with a smirk playing over her lips and Bart looks stumped. Dean
then releases Cas, only to catch his hand with his own. Cas stares at Dean,
meeting those gorgeous green eyes. A moment of understanding passes between
them. Their joined hands tighten, both parties not planning on letting go.
Dean glances over Cas’ shoulder and flips Bart off with his free hand. “Later,
asshat!”
Together they weave through the abundance of drunk teens. When Cas realises
that Dean is leading them to the back door, to go outside, he plants his foot
down. Dean stops immediately, brows rising in concern.
“What is it?” Dean moves into Cas’ space and cradles the side of his face, so
tender and gentle. Cas can feel himself flush, cheeks burning pink. “Is
something wrong?”
Cas doesn’t trust his voice to work, so he cocks his head, gesturing to the
staircase. He looks into Dean’s eyes earnestly. Longing stirs in Cas’ stomach,
and his gaze flicks downward when Dean’s tongue flicks out to wet those sinful
lips of his. Soon, they are both upstairs in Cas’ room and kicking off their
shoes.
“You lock the door?” Dean asks, voice rough and anxious.
“Not yet,” Cas strides over to the door and flicks the latch. Behind him, he
hears the creaking of his mattress’ bedsprings. The thrill of them being alone,
of Dean on his bed, sends heat travelling between Cas’ legs.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean pats a spot beside him, sitting on the edge of the
mattress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
That’s all the encouragement Cas needs. He releases a shaky sigh, unsure of how
to proceed. He has never been with anyone before and hopes that things will go
smoothly.
“So,” Dean rubs the back of his neck, smiling shyly. “I totally dig your
costume.”
“Thank you,” Cas reaches out and lightly touches Dean’s Starfleetcombadge. “I
can’t believe you dressed up as Kirk. What are the chances?”
“Star Trek is my jam, though,” Dean enthuses. “And…” he leans in, pressing a
soft kiss to the bolt of Cas’ jaw. “Maybe I was hoping I’d find my Commander
Spock.”
Unable to help himself, Cas lets out a yip of laughter. “Pray tell, how long
have you been waiting to use that line?” he asks.
Dean blushes. “A while,” he admits, smiling.
Cas has to bite down on his lip in an effort not to giggle. All his amusement,
however, is quickly replaced with shock and wonder when Dean takes hold of his
chin and guides their lips together. It awakens something new, something
foreign within Cas and it feels right and good.
They’re sloppy— lips sliding together, noses bumping occasionally, sometimes
too much tongue and too much teeth. But Cas is on cloud nine, and he knows Dean
is too, judging by the soft noises he makes. Those breathy moans. Those sighs.
Cas adores them along with the crinkle by Dean’s eyes and the dimples that form
in his freckled cheeks when he smiles.
That smile is all for Cas.
Dean falls on to his back, and Cas follows, covering his flushed body with his
own.
As their hips shift and thrust in tandem, the bulges of their hardened cocks
find delicious friction. Shivers tickle down his spine as Dean runs his tongue
along the line of Cas’ neck, tasting him. 
Cas fists Dean’s shirt as the other boy unzips his fly, gasping as the cool air
meets his damp boxers, his dick straining against the material. His heart is
going a million miles per hour.
Cas lets out a broken groan when Dean tugs down his boxers and wraps a firm
hand round the girth of his cock. 
“Dean,” Cas writhes, “Oh God, D-Dean,” he pants into the crook of Dean’s neck,
unravelling.
“One moment,” Dean puts a hand on Cas’ chest. Body tremoring with lust, Cas
pulls back and helps Dean peel of their shirts. He watches with fascination as
Dean wiggles his jeans and underwear down past his hips, then his thighs and
his cock springs free.
Smirking devilishly up at Cas, Dean chuckles breathlessly, “Aren’t you going to
kiss me, Commander?”
Cas surges forward, meeting Dean’s lips in a fervent clash.
Their hands fumble and reach between their sweating bodies, jacking each other
off messily. Pre-come spills from Cas' slit as Dean probes it with his thumb,
sending waves of pleasure crashing over him. He feels lost at sea, but is
perfectly fine with riding out the storm. The arm that props Cas up, fingers
twisting in the bed sheets, wobbles with exertion.
“Fu-uck,” Dean keens, squirming out of his briefs and jeans like they are
restraints. “Ngh! Oh! Cas, please.”
Cas yanks off the rest of Dean’s clothes, tossing them aside. His hands knead
the flesh of Dean’s thighs. Dean spreads his legs wide, chest heaving, and he
crooks his fingers— a come hither gesture— and Cas gladly acquiesces.
“Cas, I w-want you to,” Dean audibly gulps, bends his knees and hitches his
hips up, exposing his hole. “Against my ass.”
Cas leans over Dean, pressing his hardened and pulsing length against the
crease of his ass, “Like this?”
“Y-Yeah,” Dean nods, eyes fluttering close in obvious ecstasy. “C’mon,” he
grabs Cas’ sides. “Come on, Commander.”
“Yes, Captain,” Cas replies.
He works his hips relentlessly, driving his cock against Dean.
All over, his muscles burn and clench. Dean throws his head back and cries out,
body convulsing, coating their stomachs with come. Seeing the most beautiful
boy he’s ever known lose himself by his own body, throws Cas into an orgasm—
moaning Dean’s name, over and over again. They collapse, side by side. Gasping
for breath, both equally sticky with sweat and come. 
“That,” Dean pants, flinging one leg over Cas’. “That was fucking awesome.
You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
Cas runs his hand over Dean’s thigh. “I…” he tries to even his breathing. “I
don’t have words.”
“You don’t need ‘em with me, Cas,” Dean says, tugging playfully at Cas’ ear. He
pauses. “Damn,” Dean sighs. “I think one of your ears fell off.”
“I couldn’t care less, right now,” Cas turns and kisses Dean. “I’ve wanted you
for so long.”
Dean nips at Cas’ bottom lip, eyes sparkling. “Me too.” 
 
End Notes
     Happy Halloween. Boop that kudos button and comment if you liked it.
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