Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4246857.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester, Gabriel/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Gabriel, Castiel, Michael, Meg_Masters,
      Azazel, Alistair
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_Human, Alternate
      Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Alternate_Universe-_No_Supernatural
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-01 Chapters: 2/? Words: 6420
****** The Obvious Innocence of Castiel Novak ******
by DashingHeights
Summary
     Castiel Novak was a seventeen-year-old junior who has always been
     bullied for being weird, nerdy, and (more recently) gay. He's not
     good with people and his vocabulary is superior to that of even his
     teachers, although he has learned to "dumb it down." He's just trying
     to make it through brand new territory when a green-eyed, freckled
     stranger rocks the boat. Great. Now he has to deal with this
     emotional roller coaster, too.
Notes
     Ages are not accurate but whatever.. Welcome to my first ever
     Supernatural fic! Plenty of Destiel, and some side Sabriel because
     I’m trash. Teen!Destiel AUs are my heart throb, man. This one is no
     different. Enjoy~!
***** The Winchester Trifle *****
 
He was in school, reading The Great Gatsby for the fifth time that year. It was
the beginning of the second semester, and the relentless bullying had already
picked up again. Holidays were a welcomed but brief rescue.
The name calling he could ignore, the locker pranks he could deal with, but
things had become progressively worse. Before the Holidays, people had started
to get physical with him, which all started because the captain of the Baseball
team, his cousin Balthazar, tripped him on the bus. Castiel knew Balthazar
hadn’t meant to, but everyone else thought it was uproariously funny. Ever
since, people had been shoving him into lockers and sticking their feet out
between desks. He was starting to think he was getting good at avoiding these
confrontations when something entirely new was thrown his way.
Just before lunch, as he was at his locker, he turned and his face suddenly
collided with a textbook. A ninth grade English book, as he would later learn,
in the hands of his most praised, most incessant foe; Meg Masters. He stumbled,
dropping his bag and his books, which scattered across the hallway. Blood
gushed from his right nostril as he looked around in shock. It quickly turned
to horror at who he saw. Not only was Meg there, but she had her cronies with
her, Alastair and Azazel. The whole school suspected she was probably fucking
one or both of them, but nobody had the guts to say it.
“Hello, faggot,” Meg cooed falsely. Azazel and Alistair crowded him on either
side, so he had no escape. Castiel was shaking. Meg put her hand on his
shoulder and forced him down on his knees as a crowd gathered to watch. He
recognised a few faces, like Jo Harvelle, and a floppy haired frehsman was
pushing to the front of the group so he could see what was going on. His eyes
were flicking around for somebody, anybody, to do something. He had no idea
what Meg was planning. She never was physical with him, her gorillas usually
did that part.
Meg leaned down so she was next to his ear, because she knew even being near
people made him uncomfortable. “We’ve got a generous offer for you today,
Asstiel.” He flinched away. Big mistake. A knee came up to his chin, making him
bite down on his lip so that fresh blood was now mixing with the blood that
already soaked his shirt. Whimpering softly, he moved his head back next to
Meg’s and she patted his hair, “Good boy. Now, we’re not going to hurt you
anymore. You just have to do one thing for us.”
She moved away, which startled him a bit because he thought she was going to
take a swing at him again. His anxiety spiked when Azazel now stood in front of
him, fingers in his belt loops and a wicked grin on his face, “You’re gonna
suck my cock, gay boy. Right here, where everyone can see.”
“No,” Castiel gargled against his better judgment. He tried to shake his head,
but he was still bleeding and growing dizzy. People were snickering now. Azazel
only chuckled coldly, unbuttoning the front of his pants as Meg and Alistair
grabbed his chin. they were trying to force his mouth open when somebody shoved
Azazel back. Hard. He hit the ground with a bounce, yelling angrily atThe
floppy haired kid, who was standing over him with clenched fists. Castiel’s
mouth hung open. He caught Alistair out of the corner of his eye, and yeah, the
kid was big, but he wasn’t buff like these guys. “Hey!” he croaked, just before
somebody else connected their fist with Alistair’s jaw.
Andy Gallagher was glowering determinedly at Meg, but he was visibly trembling.
And who wouldn’t be under that snake’s evil eye? It suddenly occurred to
Castiel that the bell must have wrung a while ago, but everyone was still
standing out here in the hallway. Teachers were standing out in the hallway
watching. It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it should have been. Most people
in this small town were very religious, and when Castiel had come out, they
gave up protecting him. They never instigated anything, but they never helped
either, and that was somehow worse.
Meg put her hands up and took a step back, gesturing for Azazel and Alistair to
follow her lead, “We’ll see you some other time, Gay Lord.” The big kid
growled, which was something to be said for his quiet demeanor. Azazel rubbed a
hand over his crotch and Castiel grimaced. He would have gagged had he not
thought that would set them off again.
“Sammy!” a very pissed voice sounded as Sam and Andy were helping Castiel off
the floor. Sam winced and turned around, glaring down at his older brother,
“What, Dean?”
“What the hell did you do?” The older Winchester was seething, hands clenched
with white knuckles, his breath coming in ragged gasps as if he’d ran there,
his eyes narrowed so they were barely open. He shoved Sam aside and grabbed the
front of Castiel’s blue cardigan, getting right up in his face and heaving,
“Don’t you ever involve my brother in your stupid issues again, you queer.”
Castiel had to fight himself to keep his lip from quivering. Today was just not
his day, and he had to have dinner with this asshole tonight. But Sam, once
again, came to his rescue, “What the hell, Dean? What is wrong with you?” He
shoved his older brother away, catching Castiel’s arm so he didn’t completely
collapse. The bleeding had stopped, but he was still covered in crimson. His
clothes were probably ruined. Dean looked bewildered, his brother giving him
the best bitchface Castiel had ever seen.
Something silent passed between them, Dean glancing around nervously like he
knew Sam knew something he shouldn’t. “Okay,” he finally relented, rolling his
shoulders back and offering his hand out to Castiel, “I’m sorry. I’m Dean. Let
me help you to the nurse so my brother can get to class.” Castiel shrunk back
from him, glaring hideously and subconsciously stepping behind Andy, who
chuckled. “You’re not so good with guys, Dean. Only women.”
Dean blushed at Andy’s words. He grumbled something under his breath and lunged
forward to grab Castiel’s shirt again, hauling him away from the two freshman,
who actually looked amused, for some god forsaken reason. Castiel yelped in
surprise, struggling against Dean’s grip. Outside the nurse’s office, he was
thrown into a waiting chair and it almost fell over with him in it.
“Stop manhandling me, please!” Castiel screamed when Dean reached forward to
correct his position. The other boy froze, eyes wide with what fleetingly
looked like hurt, but it was quickly replaced by anger. “Fine, I won’t help
you!”
“How is this helping me?” Castiel spat, grimacing at the floor. He shifted in
his seat, the blood sticking to his skin from where it soaked through his
shirt. A teacher appeared from the door next to them and hissed, “Be quiet! I
have a class. And the nurse isn’t here today.” He disappeared without
commenting on the blood or Castiel’s swollen lip.
Dean was looking at him blankly now, head tilted slightly. Castiel couldn’t
stop himself from thinking he looked cute like that. “Alright,” Dean combed his
fingers through his hair, then turned and pulled something out of his pocket.
He tried the door to the nurse’s office, but it was locked. And then Castiel
learned he had a lock pick. Who carries around a lock pick?
Castiel considered getting up to run, slowly standing and backing away just as
Dean turned back around. “Where do you think you’re going?” the slightly
younger boy asked. “Away from you,” Castiel scowled, whipping around on his
heels. He was tackled from behind before he could move, squirming uncomfortably
under someone he could only assume was Dean. Sure enough, Dean turned him over
and pinned his shoulders to the ground. “I’m sorry, okay?” he whispered
hoarsely, arms shaking. Castiel blinked his long lashes, eyes watery. He
sniffled as Dean slowly got off of him. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, rubbing the
back of his neck. He reached down and held his hand out to help Castiel up, but
he shoved his hand away and pushed himself to his feet. Dean shuffled away to
what he thought was a safe distance, “I didn’t mean to call you-.. I was just
scared for my brother, he-.. I’m sorry..”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” Castiel mumbled, still a bit angry.
“I don’t mind it.”
“Huh?”
Dean was rubbing his neck again, which he seemed to do when he was nervous.
“You’re Castiel, right? The one who came out last summer?”
A nod.
“I think it’s stupid that they tease you because of what you like.”
Castiel wiped his eyes, sitting back down in the chair with his face in his
hands. His shoulders shuddered with a single sob, which was all he allowed
himself to do. He was not going to cry. Not here, with Dean fucking Winchester
standing awkwardly over him. Castiel only cried around people he felt
comfortable with, who he knew wouldn’t take advantage of how vulnerable he was
when he cried. “Tease is a generous word for it,” he finally mumbled, earning a
soft chuckle that sent off a hurricane of butterflies in his belly.
Dean glanced around them before taking Castiel’s wrist, much more gently this
time, and pulling him into the now unlocked nurse’s office. He shut the door
quietly and flicked on the light as Castiel sat on the bed, head tilted with
curiosity at what they were doing. His eyes were narrowed, still skeptical of
Dean’s intentions. “Okay,” Dean sighed, “Take your shirt off.”
“Excuse me?” Oh, this was not happening. First he calls him queer, then he
expects him to strip just because he said he was sorry? Castiel stood angrily,
about to shove Dean aside so he could leave when Dean put his hands out and
laughed, “Woah there, I wasn’t planning anything other to clean that blood off
you.”
Oh. Right. Blood. Castiel snorted, feeling just a little embarrassed and..
disappointed. Suddenly he was self-conscious, wrapping his arms around his own
waist and looking anywhere but at Dean. “I’ve seen you shirtless before,” Dean
chuckled, as if that wasn’t the weirdest thing Castiel had ever heard. He was
about to ask how when Dean added, “I go to all the swimming tournaments. Ash is
one of my closest friends.”
“Oh,” Castiel furrowed his brow. Ash was one of the smartest people he knew,
but the guy was constantly high and not a very good swimmer. He would have been
kicked from the team by now, if his backstroke didn’t win every time. Castiel
tapped his fingers against his sides for a moment, looking down at his feet as
he finally pulled his shirt over his head. “Good hell,” he heard Dean whisper,
“what happened to you?”
Castiel’s torso was covered in ugly, yellow and blue bruises from being shoved
into lockers or tripped down the stairs. He only shrugged, though, not
bothering to explain. He pouted as Dean stared, crossing his arms. Then Dean
moved forward and Castiel withdrew, scooting back on the bed until he hit the
wall. Dean shushed him, hand reached tentatively for the biggest bruise on his
side. Castiel hissed as he touched it, fingers splayed gently and eyes
concerned. Then he flexed his fingers. And Castiel squeaked.
Dean cocked his head, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face, “Castiel..
Are you ticklish?”
“No!” Castiel answered a little too quickly. Dean chuckled and left it alone.
For now. “Here,” he instead moved towards the sink, conveniently located at the
end of the bed. Castiel moved with him, but kept at a good distance, pressed
against the wall. “You know, you have to come here so I can clean you up,” Dean
laughed lightly. Castiel shook his head, “I can do it.”
“Come on, Cas.”
His head tipped. Cas? He’d never been given a nickname, not a good one. Gabriel
called him Cassie, but he hated that. And there was something about the way
Dean said it that made it sound so.. Endearing. Affectionate, almost. He
decided not to correct him, sliding to the edge of the bed so Dean was slotted
between his legs. He wet a rag that he found in a cupboard and drew it first
across Castiel’s chest, scrubbing lightly at the dried blood on his clavicle.
The water was warm and trickled down his sculpted body, breath coming in long,
drug out sighs. he stared at Dean’s face, which was screwed up in
concentration. The rag slowly made its way to his neck, and then over his jaw
and chin. When Dean drew it across his lips, Castiel inhaled sharply. Dean
pulled back and winced, “Sorry. I know that has to hurt.” He got a small nod in
return.
Once finished, Dean laid the rag across the sink and set his hands on Castiel’s
knees. Really, it wasn’t that intimate, but it was enough for the older boy’s
member to give an interested little twitch. He squirmed uncomfortably, “Thank
you.”
“We should find you another shirt,” Dean mused, tilting his head up at the
ceiling as if there was something interesting there, “I have a gym shirt in my
locker, but it probably doesn’t smell too great.” Castiel studied his face,
leaning forward just a little bit to see it better. His eyes were very green,
and he had wrinkles at the corners, like he smiled a lot. His cheekbones were
high and smooth, his nose just a little crooked on his face. Also, his nose and
cheeks were covered with freckles, and there was a small patch of them on the
bottom of his chin. Castiel suddenly felt like kissing every one of them.
When Dean brought his gaze level with Castiel’s again, they were closer than
either anticipated. Their noses bumped. Castiel jumped back in fright,
squishing himself back against the wall as Dean looked on, stunned. “Cas, you
okay?” he didn’t acknowledge what just happened, whatever it was. He looked
hurt, for some reason, and Castiel nodded fervently. “Yes,” he gulped, “I
just.. Being near people frightens me.” Dean looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, I
should’ve known that, I mean, bullying will do that to you-”
“Dean.”
Dean’s eyes snapped to his attention, like he’d give anything in the world to
hear what Castiel had to say. It was rather simple, “I’m cold without my shirt
on.” Dean threw his head back and gave a laugh that was belly deep. He wiped at
his eyes, shaking his head, “Okay. Let’s go to the lost and found and see if we
can find you one there.”
“But Dean, I can’t walk around without a shirt.”
Dean thought for a moment, head tilted and eyes downcast. He pursed his lips,
tapping his thumb on his arm. Then, with a look of pure genius, he slipped his
own shirt over his head and handed it to Castiel, who was blinking very fast.
Dean was gorgeous. He wasn’t as muscled as Castiel was, and had a little bit of
pudge around his middle, but he was still lean and smooth. With shaking hands,
Castiel didn’t think twice about pulling Dean’s shirt on.
===============================================================================

“You know,” Gabriel chuckled behind him, “for someone who doesn’t want to go,
you sure are excited.”
“I think he likes me, Gabe,” Castiel breathed, not sure if he believed it
himself. He was tearing his closet apart, looking for something to wear to
dinner. He hadn’t seen Dean since they parted ways at the lost and found, but
Sam had voiced both of their excitement and asked him to come over. Naturally,
he asked if Gabriel could come. Sam had said yes, and that Dean was happy about
his new friend. Friend. He could deal with that, right?
Gabriel came up behind him and spun him around, “Breathe, little bro! Who likes
you?” Castiel was too hyped to sit still, bouncing on the balls of his feet as
he answered, “Dean! He helped me today after Meg and them beat me.” He hadn’t
told his parents what happened. He had mentioned that he was in a fight and was
escorted to the nurse’s office, but he left out the part about how she wasn’t
there. And he definitely didn’t speak of the intimacy that happened behind the
suppose-to-be-locked door. But he’d told Gabriel, because he could trust his
oldest brother with anything.
“Really now?” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “How exactly did he
help you?”
“Stop it,” Castiel punched him in the arm, but he was still smiling his rare
smile. Gabriel chuckled and bent down to pick up a shirt from the floor,
crinkling his nose before dropping it. “You need one of my outfits,” he finally
decided, tugging Castiel’s sleeve so he would follow him into his room. Gabriel
was one of the cleanest people Castiel knew, except for the candy wrappers
everywhere. He sauntered up to his closet and pulled out a blue button down
with black slacks and a tan trench coat.
Castiel nodded at his brother’s raised eyebrow, happy that what Gabriel lacked
in height, he made up for in girth. Castiel was such a twig, which was good,
otherwise they wouldn’t be able to share clothes.
Gabriel handed his little brother the outfit before pulling out a similar one
with a red shirt for himself. His had a jacket, too, but Castiel didn’t mind.
He was going to be hot enough with regular clothes on, nervous and sweaty
already. “Do you want cologne?” he heard Gabriel ask from the bathroom. Castiel
declined, but was sprayed in the face as soon as he turned around. “What the
hell, Gabe?”
“You’ll thank me,” Gabriel assured him, smirking in amusement. “My dear
Castiel, we look smashing,” he commented as they stood together in front of the
wall mirror.
“You look ridiculous,” Michael, younger than Gabriel but older than Castiel,
scowled as he made his way down the hall. Castiel shrunk out of his way.
Michael was always cold towards them. Had been ever since their father left and
Mother remarried. The only one he really showed any affection for anymore was
their younger sister, Anna, the only one who lived part time with both parents.
She was at Father’s this month, so Michael was especially cranky.
“Somebody needs to get laid,” Gabriel whispered as soon as Michael was out of
earshot. Castiel blushed, shrugging. He was never good with sexual innuendos.
And talking about sex made him nervous and uncomfortable. To anybody who payed
attention, Castiel was obviously a virgin, and he intended to stay that way
until the absolute perfect person came along.
===============================================================================

Gabriel’s little car looked really beat up next to the chevy parked in the
Winchester’s driveway. The older Novak was admiring it as Castiel excitedly
rung the doorbell. He was trying to get his hair to lie flat when Sam opened
the door. “Castiel!” he almost hopped in place, throwing the door wide open as
an invitation for them to enter. Gabriel had to be dragged, which was okay, he
went willingly. And as soon as his brother set eyes on Samuel WInchester,
Castiel knew it was a bad idea to bring him.
Immediately, Gabriel cozied up to Sam’s side and asked for a tour of their
lovely house, “Particularly want to see your room,” his eyebrows wiggled and
Sam blushed hard. Castiel was about to apologize and ask his brother just to
pick him up later when Dean slid (literally, on the bannister) down the stairs
to land right next to him. He jumped, and of course Dean backed up, apologising
profusely and rubbing the back of his neck. He was wearing regular jeans and a
Star Wars sweatshirt.
Sam snickered as Castiel scooted just a bit closer and gave the tiniest smile,
“I’m okay. Promise.” Gabriel was whispering something in Sam’s ear that had him
red from his ears to his collarbone, and Dean was eyeing Castiel’s older
brother suspiciously. “Gabe,” Castiel spoke pleadingly, tugging on his sleeve.
“Okay, okay,” Gabriel shooed him off, extending his hand to Dean this time and
grinning, “Hi, I’m Gabriel. Thanks for taking care of my little bro.”
“My pleasure,” Dean smiled, then went blank as he corrected himself, “I mean,
you know, whatever. No big deal. He looked like he could use it. I’m Dean, by
the way.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve heard about you plenty,” Gabriel glanced at Castiel and
winked, and Castiel paled as Dean looked at him over his shoulder. He didn’t
look angry or weirded out, as was expected, he just looked curious. Sam cleared
his throat, “Well, I hope you guys weren’t expecting a home cooked meal. We
just ordered pizza.”
“Oh, perfect!” Gabriel shrugged his jacket off and tossed it over the
bannister, undoing a few buttons on his shirt and untucking it from his slacks.
Sam seemed to watch this action very closely, and Dean seemed to notice because
he lightly pushed his brother towards the living room. “Hey!” Sam protested,
glancing at Gabriel over his shoulder. “Come on, Cas!” Dean called over his
shoulder.
“Cas?” Gabriel smirked in amusement as Castiel coughed, “It’s his nickname for
me.”
“You already have pet names?”
“Gabriel, please be normal for once.”
Castiel didn’t bother to take his trench coat off. sitting stiffly on the
indicated armchair with his hands in his lap. He looked down at them, not
understanding how gabriel was so comfortably spread out on the couch as if he
lived here. His feet were on Sam’s lap, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Dean suddenly appeared from an archway with two boxes of pizza and Castiel
looked up. “What’s got you wound so tight, Cas?” Dean chuckled, coming to sit
on the arm of his chair.
“Oh, I, um..” Castiel couldn’t think of anything to say. He watched Sam and his
brother open the first box and pull out generous portions. Gabriel was already
asking if their would be popcorn and candy, to which Sam replied with an, “I
can get some, if that’s what you want.”
Dean didn’t further press about why Cas was so stiff, which was good because he
didn’t have an answer. He was just really nervous and uncomfortable. When he
felt someone’s hands on his shoulders, he yelped and jumped off the chair,
almost tripping over the coffee table. Gabriel froze mid bite to stare up at
his little brother, and Sam was chewing with a scrunched nose and worried eyes.
Castiel whirled around to see Dean with his hands suspended in the air where
Castiel had previously been sitting.
“I’m sorry,” Dean spoke first, dropping his hands and standing up to approach
his friend rather cautiously. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought you’d
be more comfortable without that coat on,” he licked his lips and Castiel’s
blood spiked. He suddenly felt dizzy, and like coming here at all was a bad
idea. “No,” Castiel backed up, bumping into the couch before adjusting his
path, “I’m sorry, I.. People make me nervous, I just.. I think I’d better..” He
turned to leave, almost hitting the wall on his way out.
He’d gotten the door open when he felt someone else’s palm on his and he froze.
Looking down, yes, somebody was definitely holding his hand. His eyes followed
the arm up to Dean’s face, which was soft and understanding. “It’s okay, Cas,”
he vaguely heard him say, “You don’t have to leave.” Castiel couldn’t speak. He
felt like everything was in slow motion. Dean lead him back into the living
room and sat him down on the chair again, removing his trench coat before
gently pushing him back to lean on the back of it.
And Castiel let him, gaze flicking between each of Dean’s eyes. His mouth was
part way open, he was aware of that only because his tongue was dry, and his
arms were resting loosely by his sides. When Castiel closed his eyes and took a
deep breath in, he heard Gabriel harshly whisper, “How the fuck did you do
that, Dean-o?”
Dean shushed him, drawing his fingers over Castiel’s parted lips, inspecting
the bruise forming around the cut. Castiel whimpered when Dean pulled away,
eyes fluttering open to see him sitting on the floor in front of the chair. Sam
had a huge grin on his face, and Gabriel was looking at Dean like he just
beamed down from the Enterprise.
“He has this way with people,” Sam chuckled, taking another bite of pizza. He
certainly did. Castiel had never felt more relaxed.
***** Flesh Wounds *****
Chapter Notes
     I hate to disappoint you all.. but this fic is going to be very, very
     sad for the first couple chapters..
     WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NON-CON AND DRUG USE. DO NOT READ IF
     YOU AREN’T COMFORTABLE
The closet door closed in his face and Meg kicked the back of his knees out so
he fell forward, right into Azazel’s groin. Castiel sputtered, scrambling away
as best he could, but Alistair grabbed his jaw and yanked his mouth open. Meg
had her fingers in his nostrils, pulling his head back as the inevitable was
pressed to the back of his throat. His eyes watered, partly from gagging and
partly with tears. His immediate instinct was to pull away, and when he
couldn’t his body tensed, his eyes squeezing shut. The presence was unpleasant
in his mouth.
“I bet you love this, don’t you, faggot?” he heard Azazel chuckling darkly,
grunting and shoving himself farther down Castiel’s throat. He wanted to bite,
or do something to get back at them, but his mouth was still being held. He
could barely breathe anymore, small sobs forcing their way into the little
space. “Hurry up, Azazel,” Meg snarled impatiently, Alistair humming his
agreement. With a jerk and a twitch of his cock, spurts of cum shot down
Castiel’s throat. He panicked, pulling back when he felt the absence of hands
restraining him only to catch some in the face.
All three of his bullies were laughing horribly, Alistair slapping him on the
back and congratulating him, “Good job, queer!” His hands were shaking as he
tried to wipe the salty fluid from his face, too distraught to notice when the
door had been opened until they literally threw him out. It was lunch now, and
the halls were far from empty. Applause broke from the crowd as Azazel bowed
and Meg held her chin high. Castiel curled up on the ground, face hidden behind
his hands as his body trembled with anxiety. He knew everyone was staring at
him. His cheeks burned with shame.
“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“You get what you deserve, fag!”
Other insults were thrown, but Castiel didn’t hear. His mind was preoccupied.
What just happened wasn’t even the worst part of the whole situation. While his
assailants had dragged him down the hallway to the janitor’s closet under the
stairs, they had passed Dean talking with Lisa Braeden. He’d called out,
pleaded for help, because Dean had made it better. He’d told Castiel he was
okay, he gave him a sense of security. The world shattered when Lisa asked if
Dean knew him, and Dean had laughed, “Who, the faggot? Nawh, I don’t know him.”
Castiel had all but screamed in absolute anguish as someone he thought was his
friend walked away from him without looking back.
His face felt rigid as the semen dried, but he still wouldn’t get up. Only when
he felt that the halls were entirely abandoned did he move. His first instinct
was to stand on wobbly legs and sprint to the bathroom. He felt disgusting and
repulsive, staring at himself in the mirror, heaving shallowly with great sobs
wracking his body. He splashed his face with hot water and scrubbed for close
to ten minutes, but he still felt nasty. Thinking about the feeling of Azazel’s
cock in his mouth made him gag. He had to stumble to the nearest stall to
retch, strings of the cum still present in his stomach hanging to his lips.
He wanted to call home. He needed a giant glass of water and a big hug, but he
couldn’t call his parents. His mother was at work and his step-father would
blame him for the confrontation. With shaking hands, he pulled his phone out
and hit one on his speed dial. “Cassie?” Gabriel’s voice sounded worried, as he
rightfully should have been. Castiel never called him from school unless
something was really wrong. “Gabe..” Castiel croaked, throat and pride sore,
“c-can you pick me up, please? Right now?”
“Of course. Don’t worry, little bro, I’m on my way.”
Castiel hung up and leaned his head against the sink, tears dribbling off his
cheeks and the end of his nose.
===============================================================================
 
He explained what happened through more crying and plenty of angry cussing. His
big brother listened to it all while holding him close to his side and rubbing
his back. “I’ll kill them,” Gabriel growled, “nobody hurts my brother.”
“Gabe, please.. That’ll only make things worse..” Castiel had calmed down a bit
now, but he was still feeling dirty. Gabriel suggested he shower, which Castiel
thought was a magnificent idea, and the older Novak would make him something
for lunch. He was putting brownies (that maybe had pot in them) into the oven
when the doorbell rang.
Gabriel’s bitch face when he saw Dean Winchester on his front step rivalled
that of Sam’s. “I know what you’re going to say..” Dean started, but Gabriel
cut him off, “He’s in the shower. I understand that you’re a coward, Dean, but
I don’t know if I can get over this one. You called my brother a faggot? You
know your brother is bi, right?”
Dean winced, looking down at his feet and nodding slowly. Gabriel slammed the
door open and pointed upstairs, “First door on the left. Get your ass up there
and fix it.”
Dean slunk around him cautiously, like he was avoiding a coiled snake. He
sprinted up the stairs and knocked on the first door to the right, “Cas? Buddy,
it’s Dean.. I-I’m so sorry about today.. I wanted to help.. I didn’t think
they’d actually make you-” He swallowed, twiddling his thumbs.
The door directly behind him opened and he turned to see Castiel standing with
only a towel around his waist. He was still dripping, hair even messier than
usual, and his body.. Dean knew he liked him shirtless, but that v that lead
down past the waist of the towel.. He wanted to nibble on his jutting hip
bones, lick the creases of his thighs and take in his-
Evidently, Castiel had not heard his apology because he slammed the door so
hard the house shook. “Wait, Cas!” Dean lunged forward and banged on the wood.
He heard the lock click and heaved a sigh. Slowly, he took out his lock pick
and began working on the door, “Cas? I’m coming in, okay buddy? I’m sorry. I’m
an asshole, I know that. I didn’t think..” the lock came loose and Dean shoved
the door open, at first not seeing Castiel anywhere. He caught sight of him
huddled behind the sink, hands over his neck and face between his knees. He was
shaking and probably crying, too.
“Ah, Cas,” Dean knelt down and approached him slowly. “Don’t touch me!” Castiel
growled muffledly and Dean shrunk back. “Okay,” he conceded, sitting cross
legged on the floor a little ways away. They stayed like that for a moment or
two before Dean crawled forward and pressed the lightest kiss to Castiel’s
knee. His friend’s head jerked up and he stared in frightened shock. “Hey,”
Dean nuzzled his calf, “I’m sorry. I should have done something. I’m not
ashamed to be around you, I just.. I was scared, and I can’t think when I’m
scared.”
“You were scared? How do you think I felt?” Castiel cringed back, pulling his
leg away from Dean with a snarl. The younger teen put his hands up, “I know. I
regretted it as soon as I heard what they’d done. Nobody should have to deal
with that, Cas.”
“Then why didn’t you help me?” It came out as a choked whimper, and Dean’s
heart ripped a chunk from itself. Castiel’s face was screwed up in misery, his
knuckles white on his knees. Dean wiped at his watering eyes, sighing heavily,
“I’m sorry, Cas.”
“Dean.”
Dean looked over again, blinking back the tears and almost laughing when
Castiel asked, “Why did you kiss my knee?” Dean shrugged, resting his hands on
his thighs, “Did it make you feel better?”
Castiel pondered it for a moment, eyebrows knitting together. He looked up at
Dean with wide, innocent, impossibly blue eyes and nodded. Dean smiled softly,
“Then I’ll kiss you whenever you want.” Castiel flushed bright pink, “Dean. Can
I get dressed now?”
“Of course,” Dean brushed the back of his fingers against Castiel’s cheek
before standing and exiting the bathroom. Gabriel was leaning against the wall
at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrow raised expectantly. “I fixed it,” Dean
smiled, and Gabriel nodded. He moved to the kitchen as the oven timer went.
Dean thought he smelt something. Something he definitely knew. “Would you like
to stay for a while? I’m sure Sam can take care of himself.”
“If those are what I think they are, you’re not getting rid of me.”
Gabriel grinned, setting the tray of brownies on the counter. He looked up as
Castiel entered the room, wearing a baggy, grey t-shirt and sweats with little
cartoon bees that hung off his hips. Dean couldn’t stop the fleeting thought of
he is damn sexy from crossing his mind. “Cas,” Dean smiled, stepping forward to
pull his friend into a hug. Castiel squirmed for a moment, looking at Gabriel,
who just shrugged and popped a brownie in his mouth.
Dean didn’t move, and Castiel slowly hugged him back, realizing he needed it as
soon as it happened. He tightened his grip on Dean, burying his face against
his neck and taking a deep, shaky breath. Dean pulled back but didn’t let go,
planting kisses up along Castiel’s cheek and on each of his eyelids. When he
finally let go, Castiel was pink again and staring down at his feet. Gabriel
looked pleasantly shocked, “Well. I guess all is forgiven then? And that shit
will never happen again, Dean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now have a brownie.”
===============================================================================
 
Castiel’s nose had crinkled when he learned about the pot, but after the first
one he stopped complaining. They managed to eat the whole tray between
themselves and were barely watching the movie Gabriel had put on when Dean
leaned his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “I was ashamed to be seen with you,” he
blubbered, tears streaking down his face. Castiel leaned his head on Dean’s, “I
thought you were my friend.” He wasn’t crying, but he sounded incredibly sad.
Gabriel had passed out at some point, snoring quietly in the armchair at the
other end of the room. Dean put his hand up to Castiel’s lips and shushed him,
“I am your friend, Cas, I am. You’re my buddy.”
“Then why didn’t you help me?”
Dean shuddered at the feeling of Castiel’s mouth moving against his fingers. He
sat up and flopped onto his friend’s lap, earning himself a grunt as his knee
landed between his thighs. Castiel winced and made to push Dean off when he
hugged him again. “Dean,” he choked out, “You’re kind of, um.. On my crotch.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Dean shifted his weight so his hips were on either side
of Castiel’s, nuzzling the top of his head and cooing softly. He breathed in
deeply, “You okay? I’m sorry. I could kiss it better.”
“Uh, no, I think you’d better not.”
“But you like when I kiss you better, right?”
Castiel licked his lips, not hesitating in nodding. Dean hummed happily and
peppered kisses across his nose, fingers curling in the hair on the nape of his
neck. Castiel’s eyes fluttered as his fingers found Dean’s hips, kneading the
skin there until Dean was squirming on top of him. “Cas, that tickles,” he
giggled, wrapping his arms around his friend’s chest. “Oh,” Castiel drew his
hands up farther on Dean’s back, lifting his shirt slightly, “Sorry.”
Gabriel snorted and rolled over, but didn’t wake. Which Dean must have taken as
a sign, because he glanced at Gabriel before ducking his head and kissing
sloppily along Castiel’s clavicle. “Do you still hurt?” he asked, one hand
coming to rest on the inside of his thigh, the other on his neck. Castiel shook
his head, leaning it back on the couch as Dean nipped at the flesh below his
ear.
“Dean,” Castiel breathed, lifting his hips some so they were fully pressed
together. “You should let me take care of that,” Dean whispered back, dragging
a finger over the bulge in the older boy’s sweats. He didn’t wait for an answer
before he ground downward, slowly and carefully. Castiel’s breath hitched and
his eyes flew open, head snapping up to stare at Dean above him. “Dean,” he
squirmed, speaking a little louder than before. Dean rolled his hips in small
circles, pressing his face to Castiel’s neck, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t-” a gasp, “Think this is a good idea.”
“Why not? You don’t like it?”
“It is.. pleasant.. but-”
Dean shushed him by sticking two fingers in his mouth. Castiel let out an
involuntary moan and sucked hard, earning himself a small cry and much more
enthusiastic humping. Being the virgin that he was, Castiel was riding the edge
way faster than Dean, panting and bucking upwards against the younger boy.
“Cas, Cas, calm down,” Dean chuckled, slowing them both before stopping
completely. Castiel whimpered.
“It’s okay,” Dean nuzzled their faces together, “I’ll take care of you. Just
not yet.”
“Why not?” Castiel almost whined it, but he caught himself and cleared his
throat. Dean kissed his nose, getting up off him and sitting back on the couch,
“Because when you cum for me, it’ll be special. It’ll be right.” Castiel
pouted, but nodded anyway, curling up against Dean’s side. That’s how Sam found
them an hour later, asleep, when Gabriel opened the door in just his boxers
(Whenever that happened).
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