Run Boy, Run

Castiel Novak had just turned fifteen when he was kidnapped and sold as a sexual slave. He had been working for six months ever since. Well, work is being used lightly. He was almost never paid. The only income he got was from his clients. Like this one. Castiel was curled up in the sheets of some old dude's bed. His mind wandered to other places than the moment he was in. Lying next to him was the older man, beer belly rising and falling in tune with his deep breathing of sleep. Castiel faced the digital clock on the nightstand. Once it changed from 12:59 to 1:00 am, he carefully peeled back the covers. He gathered his discarded clothes, put them back on, and left.
This wasn't anything new for Castiel. In fact, he did this multiple times a day seven days a week. Now it was the evening of the same day, and Castiel was waiting for his next client in a motel room. The door opened as a man with stubble on his upper lip, chin and jaw stepped in. Castiel tracked him with his blue gaze.
"Are you John Winchester?" he asked the man.
The man smirked. "Why yes I am," he said and appeared to be walking towards Cas.
Castiel began unbuttoning his shirt. When he looked up he realized the man had walked past him. This was quite odd behavior. The clients always went right for him as they were on a time crunch. The man seemed to be inspecting the room. Castiel knew better than to question him, but couldn't resist.
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking about where I want to fuck you." Came the smooth response.
Castiel nodded and finished shrugging off his shirt. He had just undone his pant button when John spoke again.
"Stop."
He was walking towards him swiftly. He picked up Cas' shirt and handed it back to him. "Put your clothes back on."
Castiel opened his mouth to speak when John pulled out a badge.
"I'm a cop. I'm here to rescue you."