Hell For You

And We Are?

  The Drawbacks To Underage Substance Abuse (Castiel's POV) 

I headed home, driving along the old back country road. . .

    Hah. No, I drive through a solid mile of traffic before settling into my loft. I walked through the clutter of my house, steeping over piles of laundry and old board games that weren't put away. I sagged into the flimsy couch in the dingy living room, and feeling my pants buzz again, half expecting it to be Dean.

But no, it was Zack wondering if I was home. I replied a 'yes' and he stumbled out of my bedroom in a drunken haze, or a drug induced fog, maybe both. I had to take a step back as the strong stench of booze wafted from the portly boy.

    "Zack! What are you drinking for in the middle of the day? You were 4 months sober! What changed?" He gave me a glare, like I should know exactly why. When I just shrugged my shoulders he spoke surprising coherently.

    "Cassie broke up with me, and it turns out this entire summer was a fucking joke to her! And then her bitches all laughed at me. They fucking deserve to die those pretty damn whores!" I took another step back, not because Cassie breaking up with Zack was a surprise, but because as he spoke the stank of booze grew even stronger.

    "Cas, I know you don't like me that much, don't deny it I can tell, and your my only friend now that Cassie's gone, I should just make her come with me permanently, like how they taught, and the cafeteria would be perfect and. . ."

I stopped listening to his babbling, not really caring. The reason no one liked Zack is because he is a self-centered, stuck up douchebag and I have more important things to contemplate. Like Dean.

I think about Dean, what tonight is going be like and what I want it too be like. How all those years the image of him got mixed up with hate. Hate for myself and him and the world. And love, and how much I missed him.

And these emotions only come close to the visage of the hole a living dead man leaves behind. And how now that he was a 4d, real life, actual being, who could stand before me, I really just want to tell him everything then kiss those perfect lips.

Then jaw, then neck and then chest, and so on and so forth. Speaking of "on" I was totally turned on by my thoughts of blowing my ex-best friend. Zack was still talking, and I couldn't see how to make out without making a fuss, so I told him he needed to go home and think for a while. And maybe figure out a plan, I meant for his life of course, but what's in the past is in the past.

  Once I had escorted drunk Zack to the door of the loft, I ran into the hot shower, stripping off my clothes on the way there.

  When I was in, and the water was hot, I tried to wash away everything that had happened. Dean was better forgotten, I thought.

  But even as I said this I could almost feel his fingers on my back, and then down and down and down. His fingers are everywhere, including my all too sudden boner. I started jerking off, and with no one home, I could shout his name as loud as I felt appropriate. And I did.

     When I was finished with the shower, and the couple of other items I had to suddenly take care of within that same time period, I put on boxers and a really loose pair of sweats.

I was in my room, and I sat on my bed, and then I started sinking back. And back, and black was encroaching on my vision and the next thing I know Dean is shaking me awake.

Feelings Are Hard, No Matter Where They Come From (Dean POV)

I knocked on Cas's door, and when no answer came I knocked a little harder, then I opened the goddamn door. And closed it. And stared at Cas. Cas was mostly naked, just now sitting up, bleary eyed, in boxers and sweatpants. Really low riding sweatpants.