What the Righteous Man Wanted (1 of 3)

Chapter Nine

Over the next two days, Dean hardly has the time to sneak away and be alone with Cas. What makes it worse is that, since his own family is away, Cas is always there at Dean's, sitting a respectable distance away, smiling politely at what ever Bobby says, touching Dean only what is platonically acceptable. There's the occasional shoulder touch...the 'accidental' hand brush...the discreet foot sliding up Dean's leg under the dinner table, and all the while Cas, hands folded innocently under his chin, carries on a perfectly normal conversation with Bobby about something Dean is too busy trying not to rut against Cas to listen to. It is all driving Dean relatively crazy, and when Dean decides he can no longer take the torture of Cas being so damn close and very obviously off-limits, he stands abruptly from the table, turning every eye and bringing a blush to his already bothered cheeks.

"Gotta piss," he mutters and turns away from the table, bending awkwardly as he does his best to hide just what a frenzy Cas' foot has worked Dean's dick into. Dean half sprints, half scuttles to the bathroom, locking the door behind him with a huff. He knows that after a while, someone will ask what is taking him so long, and he knows after that, Cas will offer to check on him. Sure enough, Dean hears the scrape of a chair down the hall as Cas stands and makes his way to the bathroom. The knock comes a few seconds later, and Dean is immediately swinging it open and jerking Cas through, promptly shutting it behind the other boy and pinning him against it.

"Dean," Cas gasps in shock, but Dean swallows it down as he kisses him, open mouthed and desperate for now, now, now. "What is it with you and bathrooms?" Cas mutters around Dean's lips, but Dean doesn't have time for teasing banter.

"Shut the fuck up. We don't have long," he says, pushing his hips against Cas', jerking Cas' head back by the roots of his hair, and latching onto every piece of skin the motion exposes. Dean needs Cas as hard as he is, and he needs him there now. Cas lets out another choked squeak, hands fumbling for purchase against Dean's back as Dean grinds hard against him, nipping at the spot where Cas' neck meets his shoulder before soothing over it with his tongue. Soon enough, Cas' fumbling hands become demanding hands, grabbing Dean's ass and tugging through his hair.

Cas lets out a groan, and Dean bites down on his shoulder to shut him the fuck up. He gets the message, burying his face in Dean's neck to muffle the sound. He arches up to meet Dean's thrusts down, and Dean is so fucking hard that the jeans against him are deliciously painful, especially when riding against the thick ridge in Cas' pants. Dean drives hard against Cas, pushing against his hips again and again, the heat in his stomach pooling rapidly. Dean can't help the groan that falls from between his lips, and muffled as it is by Cas' shoulder, it is still too loud.

"Shut up. They'll hear us," Cas reminds, panting and tugging at Dean's hair again.

"I know," Dean groans, grabbing Cas' ass to pull him up into his next thrust. "I don't care." The risk of exposure, as always, makes it that much more exciting. "Tell me I'm yours, Cas," Dean growls, remembering their first semi-public romp and squeezing the handful of firm ass he has, earning himself a whimper from Cas.

"You're mine. No one else can have you. Fucking mine, you hear me?"

"I'm fucking yours," Dean agrees, his orgasm pushing against him. He just needs Cas here.

"And I'm fucking yours," Cas grunts, and there it is. Dean bites down against Cas' shoulder to keep from yelling out, and a few seconds later, he feels Cas' head smacking into the door behind him as his own orgasm hits him. When he feels Cas begin to crumble beneath him, Dean licks gently at the spot he chomped down on, Cas' hands sliding slowly out of Dean's hair.

"They're going to wonder what took us so long," Cas murmurs, planting a gentle kiss against Dean's shoulder.

"Tell them I shit in my pants," Dean offers with a snort, his fingers still locked in Cas' hair as he turns to kiss him.