Dean Winchester refuses to be that naive girl in the badly made mafia movie but there he is, falling over himself for Castiel Novak, the guy with the unexplained scars and dirty tongue.
Summary: Some internal turmoil leaves Dean's nerves on end and his eyes constantly searching for a hint of the man he can't stop thinking about. His weird behavior sparks an interest in Charlie, who Dean finally confesses to.
Warnings: Blow jobs; a dash of panty kink;
Word Count: 3,028
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"Slow, doll, that's it. Don't rush it," Castiel gently stroked his hand through Dean's hair, tugging a bit when he tried to go down too far and gagged. "What did I say?" He pulled Dean all the way off, raising a firm eyebrow. Dean looked up at him with tear stained cheeks, flushed from the tips of ears down to his chest. He blinked dazedly at Castiel, his hand still absently stroking his cock.
"Don't make me cum, I'm not done with you," Castiel pulled Dean's hand off of him and silenced his whine with a look. "Mouth," he said. Dean wrapped his lips around the tip of Cas' cock and swirled his tongue as Castiel's hand went back into his hair. He pushed Dean down until he knew he was about to reach his throat, then he stopped.
"Deep breath for me, sweetheart," he said. Dean took a few deep breaths in and out through his nose, then Castiel was forcing his head down, his cock pressing passed his tongue. Dean forced his throat to relax, his eyes fluttering shut as he poured all of his attention into breathing through his nose.
"Good. Fuck, Dean, so good for me. Can you take a little more?" Castiel asked. Dean shook his head as he pulled off, coughing wetly.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice raspy.
"Don't be sorry, you're doing so well. Come on, that's enough for today," Castiel pulled Dean up from his pillow on the floor and guided him to straddle him on the hotel chair. Dean placed his hands on Castiel's shoulders as Cas guided him down onto his cock. Dean let Castiel set the pace, as he always did, letting his head fall back and allowing Castiel to pull his pleasure from him.
Room 314 had become their room, at least in Dean's head it had. Castiel would text Dean to meet him there, and he was always early. The woman at the front desk would see his face, give him a little smile, and hand him the key without him even saying a thing. Room service always showed up at some point, usually after they've had sex. Brilliant, mind blowing sex that Dean never imagined he could have with someone his age, albeit a year older.
Castiel had been held back a year because of his time spent in juvie, and Dean started school a year later because he had a shitty father, so while he was eighteen, Castiel was nineteen. For the past three months, Dean met Castiel in this hotel room, and when they left this room, they were nothing. Dean would see him at school, Castiel would smirk at him, and they never engaged.
