Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1695119.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel_(Supernatural), Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Monster!Dean, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Chaptered, Porn_With
      Plot, Porn_with_Feelings, Consensual_Kink, Threats_of_Rape/Non-Con,
      Violence, Slurs, Fluff_and_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-26 Completed: 2015-09-05 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 7286
****** The Monster in My Closet ******
by Fan_by_Proxy, orphan_account
Summary
     Castiel Novak is just your average runt of the litter. He's not
     athletic, he's not popular, and according to his therapist he's
     "socially maladjusted". Life for the misfit is as rough as can
     be...until one night when he discovers the monster in his closet
     isn't just a leftover childhood nightmare.
***** Night *****
A clap of thunder shook the house, startling Cas from a sound sleep.  The flash
of lightening that followed seemed scarily close; he could smell the ozone
burning.  Even worse, something was in the room with him.  Cas snatched the
flashlight off his nightstand and trained it on his bookshelf, where he thought
the shadows were just too damn dark.  Another boom of thunder rattled the
house, causing him to drop the flashlight and cover his ears.  Tears burned
under his lids and he tried to count to ten like the therapist said to do but
it wasn’t doing anything for the terror.  He opened his mouth to call for his
mother, but a hot palm pressed against his mouth.  Cas’ eyes flew open, breath
hitching in his chest. 
Two bright green eyes stared back at him.  Another flash of lightening only
gave him pieces that didn’t fit; a square jaw and ram’s horns and long curved
nails.  “Don’t scream.  Not want hurt you, but you scream, I hit you, make you
sleep again.  Ok?  Don’t scream.” The voice was deep and gravelly and somehow
held Cas’ attention better than the storm raging overhead.  “I put hand down
now.  Don’t scream, ok?”
Cas gave a slow, shaky nod.  The hand came away from his mouth, and the thing
settled on the edge of his bed, a surprisingly solid weight.  “Who are you and
what are you doing in my room?”  he whispered.
“I Deanon.  Monster in closet; thought you were sleeping, so I come for book.”
“Deanon?  You mean…like demon?” Cas reached for the lamp, and was relieved to
find the storm hadn’t taken out the power. 
 The thing flinched away from the light, shielding its eyes with one hand.  It
had a rather normal hand, save for the nails which were well past the
fingertips and dull black.  “No.  I monster, not demon.  Different things.”
“Is the light bothering you?” Cas asked slowly, flinching at the thunder.
“Is very bright.”
Cas made himself turn the light out, despite the storm.  It was just as well;
if Michael or their parents saw a light under his door at this hour, he’d get a
lecture.  “I’m sorry…” he trailed off as the ‘monster’ turned glowing green
eyes on him again.  There was something familiar in the shape and the color,
but Cas couldn’t really recall anything concrete.  Just vague memories of
moving shadows and night terrors.  “I’m sorry.”
“Is ok.  You not see in dark?” it asked, sounding surprised.  “You not see like
me?”
He shook his head.  “No, I can’t.  I mean I can see shadows but…well how
welldo you see right now?”
“Dark for me is like day for you.  I not see so well in light like you not see
in dark.”
“Oh…how long have you been coming in here and taking my books?” he asked,
distracted from the storm.  It was now an obnoxious rumbling in the background,
like Michael’s lectures or Gabriel’s snoring. 
“Since you have books.  I like story, I like read like you.  I
not stealing books, I borrow.  Usually bring back.” It added sheepishly.
That explained at least a few library books that had disappeared.  Cas reached
for the lamp again.  “I need just a little light.” Thank Heaven for three-way
bulbs; he could have just enough light to see by without risking any wrath. 
“This won’t bother you, will it?” With more light he could see brown shaggy
hair and freckles.  The monster wore a ratty gray tank top and black pants that
laced up the front.  It seemed kind of…harmless.  Weird, but harmless.
“It ok.” The monster smiled, showing a mouthful of pointed, sharp-looking
teeth. 
Maybe ‘harmless’ was the wrong assumption.  “You live in my closet?”
It shook its head.  “Almost.  Closet door how I get in here.  Monsters live
between spaces.  Shadows.  Almost-but-not-quite out of sight.”
Cas sat up a little in the bed.  Take off the horns and update the clothes,
this guy-thing would fit in on the football team at school.  All…muscular and
healthy-looking.  Except it was talking to him, like a normal conversation,
which is way more than would ever happen with the guys on the team.  All they
wanted from him were hand-jobs and silence.  “How long have you been almost-
but-not-quite in my closet?”
It shrugged.  “Always there.  Try to live quiet, so not scare you.”
“But aren’t you a monster?”
It gave a rueful smile that cut Cas to the bone.  “I weird for monster.  Not
like screaming, not like scares.  Want make friends instead but…I scare you, so
I stay away.”
“Until tonight.” Cas couldn’t help but smirk.
“Thought you were sleep.” It replied, sticking out a tongue that was deep, deep
red.  “Didn’t think you wake up for storm, you hate storm.”
“Which book were you going for?”
It—Deanon—got up, loping to the bookshelf.  Cas felt a little odd, watching
thisthing cross the room and having the thought ‘nice ass’.  But if this was
one of those weird dreams that he was seeing the therapist for, well then fuck
it.  He would think ‘nice ass’ and roll with it.  In the time it had taken Cas
to make himself ok with the strange turn of events, Deanon had returned from
the shelf and put the book in his hands.  “This one.  It my favorite.” He said
as he sat back down on the edge of the bed.
Cas leaned over to put the book under the scant light, and smiled at the
title.  “Frankenstein, huh?”
Deanon nodded.  “It make monster smart for change.  It good book.  Although
think maybe monster not so bad.  Doctor more monster than monster, you know?”
Weird, attractive, and could read: yep, clearly this was a moderately awesome
dream.  Now if only Tom Hiddleston would climb in the window and profess his
love.  “You’re right.  I mean the creation did some pretty awful stuff, but it
was the doc’s fault.”
“Kreeyayshun?  Weird word.” Deanon said.  “But yes, Kree not do monster things
if anyone just be nice to him.”
Cas smiled a little.  “Is that true for all monsters?”
Deanon shook his head.  “No.  Some monsters assholes.  Like screams, like
scares, like to be mean.  Don’t get appeal of all that bad noise.  Music
better.  Like plinky-plink.”
“Plinky-plink?” Cas frowned.
“You know, thing you play.  Black and white, go plinky-plink-plink when you
touch it.”
So he hadn’t just ‘imagined’ hearing the piano tinkling in the dead of night! 
“That?  Oh that’s called a piano.” He smiled.  “It’s kind of a pain in the butt
to play, but I guess you’re right, it does sound better than screams.”  Cas
wriggled a little to get closer.  “Can I call you Dean?”
“But my name Deanon.”
“Well yes but…like Dean could be your nickname.  Like my name is Castiel, but
you could call me Cas.” Cas said, feeling heat in his cheeks. 
“Oh.  I guess ok.” He shrugged.  “Who Nick and why he have extra name?”
Cas shook his head.  “Nickname isn’t a person, it’s something friends do for
each other; give each other special names…we could be friends.” He touched
Dean’s arm lightly.  It was cool, but felt as much like skin as his own. 
“Really?” the look of pure happiness on his face gave Cas a tingle deep in his
belly.  Nobody’d ever seemed so happy about being friends with him.
“Really.” Cas swallowed.  “I think I’m dreaming, and if this is my dream then
we’d be having sex.” He blurted out. 
“Well, is not dream-time, but sure we fuck.  I see what you look at on glow-
box, I think know what you want.”
Cas felt his cheeks burn hot at the thought that anyone he’d talk to face-to-
face knew his browser history.  He was so embarrassed he almost missed Dean’s
next words.
“Owe you, after all.”
“Owe me?”
Dean nodded, looking down sheepishly.  “Sometimes I not bring book back…read
too hard, break it.”
It was a relief to know he didn’t just lose books, but Dean getting his hands
on and ‘breaking’ library books was going to have to stop.  “Well if it has
that card on it, don’t take that book.  Those books aren’t mine.” Cas managed
to scold even though his pulse was racing and his mouth was dry.  “I have to
pay for those if I can’t give them back.”
Dean nodded.  “I sorry Cas.”  He put a hand on Cas’ chest.  “You go thump-
thump-thump…I not scare you?”
The look of worry on his face was so intense; Cas’ arms were out to him before
even Cas was fully conscious of it.  “I’m not scared Dean…I’m excited.” He bit
his lip as Dean came into the proffered hug.  He smelled like old clothes and
the cedar bags that were supposed to keep moths out of the closets.  But it was
nice, putting arms around someone who didn’t pull away or criticize him for
something.  Dean’s arms were going around him, nails  pricking slightly as they
ran lightly over his clothes.  He squirmed.
“Cas smell good.”
Somehow Dean’s voice had gotten even lower, hitting Cas right in the dick and
rumbling around.  He was suddenly so hard it hurt.  “Dean…” he whimpered as the
monster in his closet pushed him back against the pillows and smiled widely. 
“Cas smell real good.” He said, pulling Cas’ pajama bottoms down, nails grazing
his thigh.  Staring at Cas with those hypnotic green eyes, Dean opened his
mouth wide, tongue dropping free.  It was too long and a little slimy, and
surprisingly strong as it wrapped around his cock. 
“D-D-D-Dean—” he gasped as the tongue wound round and round his cock, slippery
coils that started to writhe, stroking and squeezing him as Dean stared on. 
Cas grabbed at the sheets, trying to keep his voice down as this bizarre blend
between blow-and-hand-job carried on for what seemed like impossibly long
minutes.  He could feel the orgasm building and couldn’t manage a warning.  Cas
came with a hard jerk, watching as the tongue unwound and carried his load into
Dean’s mouth.
The monster closed his eyes in apparent enjoyment.  “Cas taste real good too.”
He rumbled.  “Make the light go…please?”
Cas nodded dumbly, reaching and knocking his alarm clock off the nightstand as
he struggled to find the lamp without taking his eyes off Dean.  He thought
he’d regret losing the light, but Dean’s eyes were brighter than before, and
there was a sensation against his ass that made him think that Dean’s tongue
was somehow there.  “Dean, what—”
“Shh…need wet.” The voice sounded like it was right by his ear, but Dean’s eyes
were still in front of him.
Nodding again, Cas let his legs sprawl.  He closed his eyes and felt lips
against his even as that cool, slimy tongue-feeling started to tease his ass. 
Squirming, mewling, he suddenly felt surrounded by a dozen Deans, all of them
kissing and licking and touching and exploring his body.  He couldn’t help but
pant as the wet feeling crept deeper inside.  “Dean please, please—I need—I
need you—” Cas wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.  He wanted to touch, to
grab…but at the moment he wasn’t even sure where Dean was.
That mystery was solved quickly as something much larger than the tongue
pressed against his entrance.  “Dean?” he repeated, hating the quiver in his
voice.
Hands slid up his sides and down his arms, coaxing them to wrap around
something that felt solid and real.  Cas clung as the burn spread and he felt
something sliding inside.  “Oh God!” he couldn’t help it; the feeling was
strange and foreign and frightening and wonderful all at once.  Nothing he’d
read on the internet, no porn he’d ever watched in private had managed to
detail this feeling!  It hurt but it didn’t, and all he wanted was more-more-
more!
“Oh Dean, Dean, Dean!” Cas whined, clinging to the darkness.  It was punishing,
this slow in/out.  He wanted a fuck, he wanted a hard nasty dirty raw fuck! 
This was too kind, too gentle, too wrong for him… “Dean, oh God Dean!” But he
couldn’t get the words out. 
“Cas feel so good, so good.” The whisper seemed to come from inside him.
“N-n-n-no—” Cas tried to deny, but he was distracted.  There was a feeling in
him, something that seemed to be coming from his toes—something hot and bubbly
and electric and he wasn’t sure if he was screaming out loud or just in his
head but it didn’t matter because he was coming, oh God he was coming! 
Backed against the headboard, pillows pushed aside, Cas ran his hands down
Dean’s back, pleased to not feel any spines or extra limbs or other weirdness. 
He found the hips, thrilling at their motion.  “Dean-Dean-Dean-Dean!” he
couldn’t seem to get anything else out.
“Cas-Cas-Cas-Cas—” the last ‘Cas’ came out in a growl.
He felt something surprisingly hot splashing inside; it was the first time he’d
thought about how it would feel to let someone come inside him.  It
wasamazing!  “Kiss me, kiss me please.” He felt pathetic begging for a kiss but
for the time being Cas couldn’t control his words.
The kiss he got was deep and dangerous and took his breath away, sending him
floating down a river that might have just been sleep.  What a great dream…
***** Lunchtime *****
The next thing he heard was Gabriel banging on the bedroom door, bellowing
something about school and breakfast. Cas sat up groggily, wincing at the full-
body ache. The storm last night had certainly tensed him right up…but there was
a nagging sense of wrongness, like his mind was unable to shake off a good
dream. “I’m coming Gabriel shut up, God!” he called out, putting uneasy feet on
the ground and standing. The blood ran to his head and he swayed…and felt a
distinct trickle down his thigh. It all came rushing back—a boy-man-demon
thing, green eyes, huge cock, kissing—he bit back a yelp.

"Whatever! Hey, next time you’re jerkin’ it, could you keep it down? I could
hear you over the storm!"

"SHUT UP GABRIEL!" Cas shouted, throwing a pillow at the door. He heard Gabriel
cackle and dash away from the door. Getting up a second time and shuffling
around the room, Cas wondered where his closet-monster was. Probably asleep, if
daytime was his nighttime. Thinking of that set him to wondering what it looked
like; the in-between place where Dean lived. Imagining it took Cas all the way
down the stairs and out the door before the dread of facing another soul-
crushing day of highschool snapped him back to reality. Walking by himself,
under a backpack that weighed fourteen tons if it weighed anything. He felt
like Atlas; doomed and alone. That was another thing the therapist was supposed
to be working out with him. If anyone had ever bothered to ask his opinion, he
could’ve told them those three hours a week were a waste of fucking time. But
no one ever really bothered to ask his opinion, probably for that very reason.

Lunchtime rolled around, allowing Cas to beat retreat to the library as was
becoming the norm. He didn’t know how to campaign for friends like Michael and
he wasn’t charming and embraceable like Gabe. He was just weird, loner,
comfier-with-books-than-people Castiel. At this point he was just killing time
in class until graduation, when the world would open up and he could get the
hell out of this tiny-ass stupid-ass little town with its cliques and its
money-smell and its stupid expectations that no real human being could live up
to and be happy!

But until then, he’d hide in the library, at home with the dust and the book-
smell and the perfect-place-to-avoid-everyone-factor. He settled way in the
back of fiction, where the lights were almost always half-burnt out. No one—not
even the librarian—would notice him lunching there. Cas opened his brownbag and
sighed. Fucking tuna salad; he hated tuna salad! But at least there was a fruit
cup and a juice barrel to go with it; he’d just survive on that until the last
bell rang and he could go home.
"Psst. Psst. Pssssssst.”

Cas startled, looking around for the flood of snakes that was clearly coming
his way.

“Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst. Down here Cas. Next to Huck Finn.”

Setting his lunch aside, Cas reached cautiously for the shelf, pushing the
leaning Twain volume aside. There and no bigger than a Ken doll, was Dean. With
more light Cas could see he was barefoot. Something about those tiny little
toes making tracks in the dust was very endearing. “Dean? What are you doing
here?”

"You go school, I go school. Easy; shadows like doors. Your bag-bag make nice
shadow. Lots of stuff in it."

Well now he knew why his phone and his calculator batteries were always dying.
“Have you always been doing this?”

Dean nodded, coming out of the shelf enough to sit down at the edge. He swung
his feet, making tiny pock-pock noises as he drummed heels against the wood.
“Want be smart like you.”

"I’m not smart." Cas said with a snort.

"Are so! You read all the books, make scratch-scratch on papers with pen. I try
scratch-scratch, mostly just make mess."

And now he knew why his pens kept breaking. Cas reached out with a finger and
touched the top of Dean’s head. “You’re obnoxious, you know that?” he rubbed a
little; Dean’s hair was soft like rabbit fur. “You break my pens, run down my
batteries…that is you, right?”

"Candy Crush fun." the little monster replied, leaning this way and that. He
grumbled when Cas’ finger brushed a horn.

It didn’t seem like a noise of displeasure. Cas braved another grumble as he
traced a curl with his nail; it didn’t feel like bone and it didn’t quite feel
like fingernails. It was harder and smoother than any of that, at least between
the ridges. But it must be something very live, because Dean was squirming and
writhing like a cat in the middle of the best petting. Cas smiled. “I kind of
like you this size. You’re very cute.”

"Easier to hide when small." he replied, turning his face towards Cas’ finger.

Cas thought he would kiss, but instead there was a painful prick. “Ow!” He
snatched his finger away, sucking a bead of blood away. It stung like a
papercut but that little drop was the only blood in sight when he checked. Just
as well, he didn’t have a bandaid.

Dean looked very ashamed. “Sorry. Good feels. Went to kiss like monster…sorry.”

Cas reached out with his unharmed hand and started to pet at Dean again. “No
bites, ok?”

"Ok Cas." Dean sighed, leaning against his fingertip.

"So you’ve been coming to school with me every day? How come you’ve only just
come out now?"

"Last night, you say we friends. I figure, ok to come out. Say hi. You by
yourself, don’t have to be."

Cas smiled bitterly. “Yes I do. Nobody wants much to do with me if I’m not
doing their homework or touching their dick.”

"You not touch my dick. I still here." Dean pointed out.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well we did that last night.”

"Still here though." Dean reached with both arms and grabbed Cas’ finger,
hugging it against his cheek. "Cas is friend. Never have to be by yourself
again if you want."

Something inside was dangerously close to breaking. Cas snatched his hand away
and covered his eyes, trying to bite back a sob. He almost succeeded, except
for a tiny peep. Something thumped against his shoulder, startling him. A book
had come off the shelf…and there was twelve inches of Dean, watching him
worriedly.

"I say bad thing, didn’t I? Sorry Cas, so sorry." He was making a pretty
treacherous journey from the shelf to Cas shoulder, nearly slipping off. Cas
caught him before he fell, but not before those strange nails put little holes
in his shirt.

"No, no Dean…I’m just…sometimes I’m just sad. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t…" he
settled Dean on his shoulder and felt the little monster nuzzling his jaw. "No
I’m ok, really." Cas tried to sound firm, tried to jam the armor back on;
weakness was intolerable on a thousand different levels.

Something rang in his ear, soft and vaguely comforting. It made him think of
the birds Grandma Rose used to raise. It took him a minute to realize it was
Dean trilling in his ear, still nuzzling against his skin. He smiled a little.
“I’m ok Dean, really.” Cas said as he wrapped a hand around the little monster
and pulled him off his shoulder. “Promise.” He added as he kissed Dean. When he
pulled away, Dean was making an ugh-Grandma-kiss face. Cas laughed a little.
“Sorry.”

"It ok. Big lips kinda weird. Now know why tongue made you wiggle." Dean
replied.

Cas gave another little laugh and hugged Dean to his cheek. “Your tongue was
great Dean. I like you the way you are.”

"You want I stay small-small?"

"No, no—I just meant…well your horns and your tongue and your glow-in-the-dark-
eyes and your nails…you’re my little monster. Big or small.” He couldn’t help
but kiss Dean again, almost dropping him when he squirmed. But Dean was
laughing, a funny little rasping sound from his little mouth.

"Yep-yep. Bell go ‘dong’, time for more ugh-class?"

Cas nodded. “Yes Dean, ugh-class. You want help getting back in the backpack?”

"I can make happen." he said with a yawn.

"Oh you’re tired aren’t you? Oh Dean, you gotta tell me these things." Cas
scolded, opening his bag and pushing binders aside to settle him in it.

"I ok." Dean replied, peeping up at him. "I stay up late all time."

Cas gave his head another little pet. “It’s just health class. You can sleep
through that, I usually do.”

Dean nodded, waving as Cas started to zip the backpack shut. 
He hoped Dean wasn’t squished by anything shifting around as he got up. The
warning bell rang; he’d have to eat the fruit cup on the run. That was kind of
annoying…but it didn’t put a dent in his kind-of-okay mood. He had a friend, a
friend just for him. It was a good day.
***** Afternoon *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: This chapter contains allusions to rape, threat of rape,
     slurs, and surreal violence. The next chapter's fluffy though.
The day couldn’t end fast enough for Cas, but not for the usual reasons. Oh he
was still bored cross-eyed with classes and anxiously dodging homophobes and
closet-cases, but he could actually enjoy going home today; somebody would be
there who would want to spend the time with him. Not to dump on all of his
family; Gabriel—for all his obnoxious teasing—was a decent brother. But he had
an afterschool life that ate up most of his time that Cas just couldn’t find
the appeal in. He supposed he was too weird even for the drama club. Not that
it mattered; he had a Dean to spring!

At last the final bell rang and he could pick up his bag and go. No point
stopping by the locker; any hatemail could be tossed in the trash tomorrow. Cas
shouldered his bag, hoping again that Dean wasn’t getting squished, and
practically sprinted from the classroom. He made a beeline for the main doors
and cut a hard left; sure there was construction going on but it was a quiet
route because of that. Plus it cut ten minutes off his walk home.

The construction was for some new housing development; Beigetopia or something
stupid like that. Just another series of cookie-cutter houses with cookie-
cutter people living cookie-cutter lives. The town had had a perfectly nice
wooded area torn down and filled in to make it happen; it was so lame—

“Heeeeeeey fag!”

Cas froze. The long, nasal taunt…oh God, oh God, oh God it was Rodney Myer. The
guy was a poster child for childhood sociopaths; pock-marked and held back so
many times he was responsible for buying his sophomore classmates beer, Rodney
was responsible for more than a few traumas Cas had buried deep in his head.
Looking around was a stupid horror-movie tactic; instead Cas opted to barrel
on, eyes peeled for a security guard or a construction worker or somebody who
could throw up a wall of authority between him and the psycho.

"Got somethin’ for you to suck faaaaaaaaggot!"

Who the hell stopped work at three in the afternoon on a freaking weekday?! Who
left a frigging development unattended during daylight hours? Hell, they
probably even left the keys in the ignitions of all the machines!

Chest burning, legs already threatening to cramp, Cas trained his eyes on the
far side of the construction site; if he could just get through there, get to a
street with people on it, he’d be safe, he’d be safe!

Something hard and heavy slammed into the back of his head. Fireworks went off
behind his eyelids and Cas fell hard. He scrabbled in the dirt, gasping and
choking on dust and fear. The straps of his backpack bit into his chest and
shoulders as it was ripped away and thrown back into his field of vision. “NO!”
Cas screamed, visions of Rodney’s brutality now blending with horrible thoughts
of Dean being crushed to death in the mayhem.

"Shut it faggot, shut your cock-sucking mouth." Hard fingers dug into his
scalp, pulling a hank of hair free. "Gonna give you a facial."

Gagging now, Cas felt his pants grow hot and wet. It wouldn’t be the first time
Rodney Myer had scared him in to pissing himself. 
"No, no, no, God please no—"

"Shut up faggot!" Rodney was dragging him across the dirt and rock and poorly
policed construction material. "Oh yeah, gonna give your lil faggot face
a nicewet facial!”

"Dean!" Cas managed to scream, realizing that this time? This time Rodney
wasn’t going to hurt him with sex. Rodney was going to put him face-first in
the concrete. Rodney was gonna kill him! There was a small cement mixer next to
a square block of dark grey doom. Cas could smell the almost tarry smell of
fresh cement. He tried to pull away but all that did was make Rodney laugh.

"What’s wrong lil gay-boy? Thought you queers liked a hot steaming load in your
eye!”

Cas was still screaming for help. There was a flash of green inside the mouth
of the cement mixer; but there were flashes of color all over his eyes, Cas
wasn’t about count himself as saved. It would figure something awful would
happenjust when he was feeling sort of okay about his life!

Another scream echoed through the deserted site, and Cas hit the ground for a
second time. Head spinning, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.
Rodney seemed to be walking backwards against his will—there was actual terror
in his face and for a moment Cas thought he saw black-nailed hands around the
psycho’s ankles. A coughing fit seized Cas, sparing him the bizarre-and-violent
sight of a six-foot-tall lunatic being yanked into maybe five cubic feet of
space.

He might not have seen it happen but he heard it; it was a wet, sloppy,
crunching symphony tinged with the heavy scent of copper. The screams stopped
early on though, thankfully enough. “D-D-D-Dean…” Cas tried to raise up, but
the adrenaline was draining away fast and he couldn’t think or see straight.
For the third time that day, he ate dust.
***** Late Night *****
Consciousness felt like a wet cloth swiping at his face. Cas startled, waking
thoroughly confused. The sky over his head wasn’t sky, it was ceiling. His
ceiling, with his actually-autographed ‘Smallville’ poster taped to it so
Jensen Ackles’ hotness was the first ‘good morning’ greeting he got. “What?”

"Cas ok!" was the joyful reply, and Cas had to quickly turn his head to avoid
getting a horn in the eye from Dean throwing himself into a hug.

"Yeah…yeah I’m ok…" Cas said slowly, putting a hesitant hand on Dean’s hair. It
was still bunny-fur soft. He swallowed. "Dean, what did you do?”

Dean sat up, giving Cas a very befuddled look. “I kill monster. He hurt you, I
hurt him worse. What’s problem?”

"What?!" Cas sat up and promptly toppled over from a dizzy spell. "Dean
you…you killed him?!”

"Well yeah. I loyal monster; other monsters not allowed to scare-hurt you."

Closing his eyes, he sighed. “Dean that wasn’t a monster. I mean he was but not
like you’re a monster…he was a human being.” It took a lot of restraint not to
temper that last statement with an ‘ish’.

"But…he hurt you. Make you peepee pants. Make you bad-scared."

Cas felt a heavy hand on his head. He sighed. “He did.” Indignation was
slipping away hard and fast; Rodney had been a monster and a terror and did
things to the world around him that the legal system wasn’t supposed to
tolerate. His parents had bought a lot of hush-ups and the fact that he was now
just so much meat in a cement mixer was actually kind of awesome. “Dean,
sometimes…sometimes people are just mean. Especially to me. You can’t kill them
all.”

"I won’t. Just worst ones."

He had to smile; Dean had a confident sound in his voice that Cas had never
figured out how to fake in his own. “Ok Dean.” Cas sighed. His body still hurt,
and he’d probably never walk past that area again…but he was safer than he’d
ever been before. There was still a small part of him that protested the
violence, urged him to scold Dean more thoroughly, make him understand that you
couldn’t do something like that and think it good. He drowned it out in the
part of himself that nursed every needling, niggling, bleeding hurt that had
been chipping away at him for the past seventeen years.

When that righteous part was thoroughly silenced, Cas drifted off to sleep.

It was late when he woke up, hungry and even more sore than before. Dean was
nowhere to be seen, which was infinitely more disappointing than having missed
dinner. “Dean?” Cas sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Dean?”

"Down here." A familiar black-clawed hand came out from under the bed and
patted the bed.

Cas smiled, moving his leg out of reach. “What are you doing under there?” he
shifted around to look over the edge of the bed, lifting the dust ruffle a
little.

"You sleep. I go read, be quiet."

"I thought you lived in the closet."
There was a snort. “Yes closet. But all shadows doors for monsters, remember?”

"Yes Dean, I remember." Cas let the dust ruffle go and got off the bed, sitting
down on the floor. "What’s it like in the space where you live?"

"Cozy." Dean replied, hand now blindly searching for Cas along the floor. "You
want come-n-see?"

"Can I?"

"Sure. Take hand, come-n-see."

Cas touched the back of Dean’s hand lightly. It tickled his fingertips when
Dean’s hand turned over, but the giggly feeling disappeared when Dean’s hand
clamped on his wrist hard. “Dean, it’s too—” he was headed face first for the
dust-ruffle before he could protest. But instead of smacking into the floor or
a lost shoe, Cas found himself zooming headfirst down what felt like a tunnel
slide, landing with a bounce in a pile of...socks?!

"Socks?!" Cas started to laugh, picking one up.

"They soft." Dean replied, lower lip jutting out in a pout. He was lounging
naked in the sock nest, ‘Frankenstein’ in one hand and a half-empty liter of
Mountain Dew in the other.

And of course they were all lefties. “You’re right Dean, they’re very soft. And
you’ve answered a very important age-old question.” Cas said with a smile,
trying to crawl over to him. “So thank you for that.”

"No problem. Drink?" Dean thrust the bottle at him.

"I’m ok for now…" Cas looked around. It was like being in a den, low-ceiling’ed
and dimly lit by dozens of nearly burnt-out nightlights. The socks were piled
high in some places, standing in for pillows. There were pages from books,
empty candy wrappers, and scratched CDs. He picked one up. "What’s this about?"

"Wanted Muzak. Used to be, you take circle, run nail on it, get music. Not now.
Just make circle not work you do that." Dean replied with a sigh.

Cas wondered at how old he really was. “Well you’re probably talking about a
record—vinyl. They have little grooves. This is a CD, it’s digital. You have to
have a CD player to make it work. And electricity.”

"Oh eckletricity not problem here. Finding seedy player no one miss, that kind
of hard. But can do." Dean closed the book, dog-earring the page.

The action made Cas wince, but he decided instead to focus on the thick fleshy
cock resting on Dean’s thigh. It looked a little like a sea cucumber in its
sleepy state. Cas blushed, thinking of the first night. “I can try to help you
with that.” he said, wriggling across the sock nest to snuggle against Dean,
trying to be casual in letting his hands wander.

"That nice. You nice Cas, good and nice." Dean replied, putting an arm around
him.

"You too Dean." Cas murmured, trying not to shake as he happened to ‘casually’
brush the curls at the base of Dean’s cock. They were soft too—it was weird
that Dean could have such soft hairs and such hard teeth and nails!

"You want monster fuck?" Dean asked.

Cas looked up a little to see him smirking. “Maybe I just want to touch.” he
sassed.

"Careful. Monster not like buzz-buzz in Mom’s table. You get monster started,
monster going to finish."

Temporarily distracted by the revelation that his mother might be a sexual
being, Cas missed Dean’s hands sliding over his clothes and sliding them off.
It wasn’t until those strange black nails were trailing lightly over his
stomach that Cas tuned back in to the situation. “Dean…” He couldn’t help but
laugh and squirm; his sides were so ticklish!

"Yes Cas?" Dean purred, nuzzling his face. It was different at full-size than
shelf-size; Cas could feel a little burn the stubble scraped his skin. It made
him shiver, goosebumps rising high on his skin.

“Oh Dean…” there had been something he wanted to do, something he wanted to
say, but Cas couldn’t think of what it was for the life of him. The den was
warm, the socks were soft, and Dean’s tongue was starting to slide against his
skin. Cas couldn’t think of a better place to be in any other instant. As the
cool wet feeling traveled down his chest and wrapped around his cock, the
thought came back. “Wait, Dean wait—oh God that’s—please wait!”

Dean stopped, face confused and a little comedic with the long red tongue
hanging out. “Huh?”

Cas smiled. “This feels great…but I was kinda hoping…to return the favor.” he
turned bright red and hated himself for it. He knew how to grab cock, why was
he getting shy now?

"Oh." Dean reeled the tongue back in, licking his lips. "Ok. Sound like fun for
me." he settled back against the sock nest, wrapping a hand around himself and
giving a short stroke.

It was amazing to watch his head pop out from that extra skin; like the world’s
kinkiest magic trick. Cas licked his lips, shifting to his knees and sinking in
the nest a little. He ran a finger down Dean’s length, marveling at the feel of
it. There was a pulse beating visibly in a long dark line down the shaft. Cas
traced it lightly with a nail and thrilled to see Dean’s eyes close slowly and
a wide, cheek-splitting smile spread on his face. “This is amazing.” Cas
murmured, still touching lightly. He started to curl his fingers around and was
surprised to find his thumb and fingers couldn’t meet; it was so different from
what he’d ever touched before. “It’s so…big.” he felt a little dumb saying it.

"Cas soft hands. Nice petting." Dean murmured, head tipped back.
Cas licked his lips, leaning close and tentatively touching his tongue to the
head. It…didn’t taste like anything. Well that wasn’t fair, it tasted like
skin. Maybe fanfiction writers were exaggerating when they talked about salty/
sweet/musty cock-taste. But it was pleasant, especially seeing Dean’s eyes
flare brighter at the lick. “I’m sorry…I haven’t done this before for anybody,
I um…I’m probably not good.” A surprise well of tears stung his eyes.

Dean cupped his face, sides of his thumbs touching the not-quite-tears and
wiping them away. “Cas good. Cas soft and good and mine. All Cas touches is
good.”

He closed his eyes and let Dean pull him close, melting into the embrace as
Dean’s tongue trailed down his back and slid along his ass. Moaning as the tip
slid in and wriggled around, Cas rocked his hips and reveled in the sensation.
Dean’s stomach was smooth but for the happy trail and what a happy trail it
was, tickling Cas’ cock as Dean’s tongue pushed deeper. “Oh Dean…” he sighed.

"My Cas." Dean replied as his hands slid over Cas’ back and hips, coaxing him
into a more comfortable place.

Cas grit his teeth; even with Dean’s tonguing, it still burned a little when
his cock went in; at least it wasn’t a surprise this time, given how thick it
was. And because Dean was taking his time, Cas got to really feel every inch.
With Dean’s help he sat up, letting out a deep gutteral groan as his ass came
to rest fully against Dean’s pelvis. “Oh my God Dean, Dean I can’t—I can’t—oh
Dean!” Cas cried out. His thighs shook and the sock nest was too soft and
unreliable for him to plant his feet but it still felt like his ass was being
pounded. “Dean, Dean, Dean oh God Dean!”

The only answers were grunts and growls, the little den full of the sound of
flesh-on-flesh slapping, fabric tearing, and panicked happy little cries. When
Dean came it was with a roar that hurt his ears but that didn’t matter; the
only two people in the universe who heard it were the only two people in the
universe most interested in it.
***** Early Morning *****
Cas opened his eyes and stretched, flexing his toes with satisfied pops.  He
rubbed his eyes, wondering what time it was and more importantly, where was
Dean.  He sat up, relishing the twinge in his lower back.  “Dean?”
“Huh?” It sounded like he was close by, but occupied.
Digging around the sock nest, Cas found something he hadn’t thought of in
years.  The jack-o-lantern flashlight that had been his best companion for at
least three Halloweens and a lot of storm-darkened evenings; it was smaller
than he remembered it being, the light from it not as bright as he thought it
should be.  Maybe it needed new batteries?  Not that it mattered; he just
needed an extra little bit of light.  “Dean?” Cas repeated as he swung the
light around the little den.  He dropped it when he found Dean, and promptly
picked it up and trained it on his not-so-little-monster.
Dean was sitting away from him, legs sprawled, feet dug into the sock nest,
clearly in the middle of something good.  That long red tongue was wrapped
around his cock, coils slithering up and down the length.  He was breathing
hard, nostrils flared, drooling down his chin.
“Holy fuck…” Cas breathed. 
There was a bright flash of green as Dean’s eyes opened.  “Ha.”
“Hi.” Cas whispered.  “Don’t stop.” He added, eyes torn between the green glow
and the blushing head popping in and out of those slippery coils.
The writhing continued, and Dean grumbled deep in his throat.  Cas went to his
hands and knees, awkwardly clambering over the nest, trying not to lose the
flashlight in his travel.  He wanted to be closer, needed to be closer.  Hell,
if he could manage, he wanted a mouthful of whatever came out of Dean when he
came.  “Oh Dean this is so weirdly hot!”
Dean grunted, unwrapping a couple of coils, focusing his strokes just on the
shaft.  He reached out, tracing Cas’ ear with a claw and then slid his hand to
cup the back of Cas’ head and urge it down a little.
Shakily, Cas leaned in, daring another cautious lick.  This time there was a
taste; something salty and a little bitter and hard to describe.  It made him
think of the lemon scrub he used to keep his face clean, all tingly and cool. 
It didn’ttaste like it, but that’s what he thought of.  He dared to lick
again…and again…and again and again and again.  Every time a shiny little bead
worked its way to the end, Cas licked it up.  He wished his mouth were bigger;
he wished his tongue was longer.  Basically he wished he had Dean’s mouth
because he wanted to be able to suck Dean’s big fat monster cock.
There was another growl, louder this time.  It rumbled around the den and
suddenly Cas’ face was doused in hot, sticky, Dean.  But just as fast as his
face was spattered, Dean was licking it away.  Cas moaned, losing the
flashlight in favor of jerking himself.  It didn’t take any time for him to
finish and he sort of pitched forward from the strength of his climax. 
Dean stroked his hair, pressing Cas’ cheek to his thigh.  “Sorry.  Try not to
wake you, but saw you sleep, thought ‘I want fuck’.  Figure suck-off let you
sleep and get me off.”
Cas nuzzled him.  “It’s ok.  You can wake me up Dean.” He kissed the skin. 
“But that was hot, that was so hot.”  He sighed.
“Yep-yep.”
Somewhere in the distance, a buzzer sounded.  It took a minute for Cas to
realize that somewhere outside this little den, his alarm clock was going off. 
“Fuck…I don’t wanna leave.” He couldn’t help but whine.
“It ok Cas; your monster always with you.” Dean replied, still petting his
hair.
Cas sighed, melting into sleep again, feeling very warm and very welcome in
this strange little place.
***** The Last Day *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"You could stay-stay.  Here.  Forget ugh-class and stupid-Michael." Dean said
as he followed Cas up the steep, shadowy slope that was supposed to be leading
back to Cas' room.
"Dean, that's sweet...but I'm not a monster.  I need food and stuff."  Cas
replied, sorely tempted by the prospect and tired of this seemingly endless
climb. 
"I get food.  Food easy to get.  Stuff easy to get too; just take Forgot. 
Forgot good stuff, find it everywhere."
Cas sighed, feeling Dean's hand on the small of his back.  He was so tired! 
"Dean..."
"Shhh, Cas.  Stay-stay."
The light above grew dim and the shadowy slope felt so cold.  "Dean?"
"Stay-stay.  I take care.  Good care.  All your monster, right?"
Cas made a soft noise, closing his eyes and loosening his grip on the shadowy
slope.  He was not aware of any real slide, only the shift from struggling
against shadows to the warm embrace of piles of left socks and the real
affection of his monster.  Forever.
 
Chapter End Notes
     The end is up to you. Did Cas die? Become a monster? Realize all of
     this was just a series of delusions promoted by a mental breakdown?
     Or are monsters real, and occasionally in love?
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