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It was official. Dean’s third year of college was killing him.

Being a student of mechanical engineering wasn’t simple. He had a lot to do, all the time. His courses were demanding, his professors were demanding, most of his classmates were arrogant assholes who thought themselves better because they were majoring in a hard rather than a soft science, so Dean would rather study on his own than join their study groups. He was doing alright, but if he said he was all Zen and shit, that would be the lie of the century.

Some days coffee was the only thing allowing him to keep going and deal with all his responsibilities. Luckily, there was this nice, little coffee shop right in front of the mechanical engineering building where Dean could go and study when he couldn’t stay in the lab any more, or when he needed his dose of liquid strength.

And the coffee was good, great even. Exactly like Dean liked it. The pie was delicious too, and pie was always a sure way to pick himself up when he was really, really down.

Another huge plus in Dean’s book was the drop dead gorgeous owner, who always looked at Dean when he thought Dean wasn’t looking, and would quickly divert his gaze when he realized he had been caught staring.

Dean didn’t mind at all. With those baby blue eyes, those pillowy lips, that sharp jaw, that bed hair, those biceps, and that firm, perky ass, Dean might have had more than one fleeting thought of fucking that exemplary specimen of Homo Sapiens.

He had tried to drop more than one hint when ordering or paying for his orders, but the man - Castiel his name tag said - was either super professional or super shy and he never gave Dean an opening. He would smile embarrassed when Dean’s flirting got a little less subtle, and then quickly look around to make sure they weren’t too obvious in front of the other patrons.

Dean concluded the man was probably uncomfortable because that was his place of work, and it’s not like he was a tattooed bartender at a gay club, he was the owner of a cafè catering mostly people Dean’s age. He couldn’t risk being known as the old guy hitting on young college students.

Because that was part of the charm of this whole thing. Castiel was older than Dean. He couldn’t know for sure how much older, but Dean was twenty and Castiel had to be at least thirty, if not older.

So one night Dean decided to stay until closing time, and he waited for everyone else to leave before striking up a conversation with the blue-eyed beauty over a common interest: novels.

Dean was - or, to be more precise, had been, until college had claimed every minute of his life - an avid reader, and he had noticed that there was always a novel laying around behind the counter, which further confirmed that Castiel was a very good boy deserving to be thoroughly fucked.

Slaughterhouse-Five. Great reading,” said Dean while tilting his head toward the book next to the cash machine.

Castiel seemed to need a second to connect the dots and then replied, “Oh, you read it? How did you like it?”

“I loved it. Vonnegut is one of my favorite authors, possibly the favorite.”

“Can’t say I disagree with your taste in narrative.”

“What about you? Got a favorite author?”

“I do. I am absolutely crazy about Jane Austen.” Castiel replied on instinct, all animated, only to close off one second later as if he was bracing himself for some kind of negative, possibly mocking reaction. Who knew how many of those he must have got when he confessed that his favorite author was an English lady from the nineteenth century. God, Dean was so done with all the bullshit about what was and wasn’t masculine. He had never read a novel from Austen, but even he knew she was a great writer. And the person in front of him was very much a man. Appreciating that author didn’t make him any less of a man. And as a man he would be fucked soon, if Dean had anything to say about it.

“I never read any of her novels, but I would love to read one. I know she’s a great writer.”

Dean made a mental note to start waxing poetry about Jane Austen on a daily basis if that was all it took to make Cas smile so big.

“Oh, she is, absolutely. A unique writing style, and her stories are so witty and relatable. I could, uhm, lend you a copy of one of her novels, if you’d like?”

“That’d be great, thank you, Cas,” said Dean with his most dashing smile. He noted the other man frown a little over the nickname, but he didn’t comment on it. And then nothing else mattered because Cas was smiling even bigger, scrunchy nose and gums showing, and that smile almost had Dean on his knees, ready to propose.

“I actually have one in my office at the back. If you can wait a minute I can go and grab it for you?”

Oh, this was just too golden an opportunity for Dean to pass.

“‘Course I can, thank you Cas!”

As soon as the man disappeared behind the corner Dean went to lock the door and turn the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. He then walked in the same direction Cas had taken until he found himself in front of a room whose open door had a ‘PRIVATE’ sign on it. ‘Oh,’ Dean thought, ‘what’s about to happen is private alright.’

Dean took a moment to stay there and appreciate the scene in front of him. The office was quite tidy, with a big, spacious desk which was just the right height. Perfect. Cas was going through a bookshelf a few feet away from the desk, mumbling to himself and unaware of the fact that he was being watched. When he found what he was looking for, he turned around only to freeze on the spot when he realized Dean had followed him.

“Dean, what-. I mean, uhm,”

As much as Dean was enjoying this stammering version of the beautiful man, it was high time they got this show on the road. Or the desk.

So he walked through the door, eyes fixed on Cas and said, “Correct me if I’m wrong Cas, but I feel your eyes on me pretty often, especially when you think I’m not looking.”

Cas’s mouth dropped open a little, his eyes widened and then his gaze dropped. ‘He seems ashamed,’ Dean thought, not liking that one bit.

“No, please, Cas, none of that. I like it.”

Cas’s head shot back up and he was clearly surprised when he asked, “You do? You don’t find it weird?”

“Because you’re older? Nah. If anything, I’m flattered. You’re absolutely beautiful Cas, and having caught the eye of someone like you is quite the ego boosting.”

Cas smiled a little then, but it was still insicure. He seemed... lost. Alright, time for Dean to take the reins.

“Do you like getting fucked Cas?”

Oh, yes, flustered, stammering, caught off guard Cas was the best Cas. Dean decided there and then this conclusion would certainly be revised and corrected as soon as he’d get to see sprawled and ready-to-be-used Cas.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. You like it when someone fucks you?”

“I-“

The poor man was literally gaping like a fish. He had expected none of this and was torn between doing the adult thing and going along with the desire inside of him. That was as much present on his face as the surprise was.

This was a critical moment, Dean decided, and took another step toward Cas.

“I’m asking because I would really, really like to do that now. Here. If you’ll let me.”

“I don’t have condoms here. I have lube,” the blush now visible on his face was a clear sign Cas hadn’t meant to reply like that and was now realizing what that reply entailed, “but, uhm, no condoms,” he finished almost on a whisper, seemingly finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

Dean couldn’t help but smile and take another step. “If that’s your only concern Cas, don’t worry, I have them. And don’t worry about anyone interrupting us either. I locked the door and turned around the Open sign.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction at that, but he didn’t otherwise react. None of them said anything at that point, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes for some time and waiting to see what the other would say, or do.

“Go bend over the desk, Cas.”

The older man hesitated for a few moments and opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. He then turned around and walked toward the right hand side of the desk, bent over with his hands grabbing its edges and turned his head to his right, toward the wall, away from Dean.

Dean must have saved the world or something in a previous life because this was all too good to be true.

He didn’t say anything though, the bubble they were in was way too fragile and easy to shatter, so he just approached Cas until he was right behind him, his crotch flushed against the other man’s ass, and he started touching him. He put his hands on those broad shoulders and started moving them down to his arms and then back up. He then touched all of that big, muscled back, realizing he was super turned on by how much bigger than him Cas was and how responsive he was. Dean could feel him shiver, relax and exhale under his hands. He then moved his hands to Cas’s ass, and goddamn was that an ass. Dean was pretty sure he could spend more than a couple half hours kneading that delicious, firm flesh.

“Where is the lube Cas?”

“Bottom drawer, right-hand side.”

Straight to the point. Dean appreciated that, especially right now.

He went to retrieve it and took the chance to glance at Cas. The man had his eyes closed, but the line of his neck and shoulders clearly showed he was nervous. Understandable. Dean would make sure to have him relaxed, and begging, soon.

He then resumed his position behind Cas, sliding his hands to the front of his slacks. Once he had the button open and the zipper down, he started to slowly but surely slide them down, together with Cas’s underwear, revealing so much perfect skin. He started to kneel down and bring Cas’s pants and boxer briefs along, until they puddled around his ankles. Dean took a moment to watch the delectable show in front of him, but quickly decided this was too unplanned to go with a rim job. If things went according to plan, there would be other occasions for him to have this beauty prepped and ready for that. He stood back up then, not without taking the opportunity to make his hands follow his path upward and touch Cas’s calves, back tights and finally his round, absolutely perfect ass, without any barrier. Putting a hand on each of his cheeks, he spread them and took a few seconds to just enjoy the view of the beautiful hole he was about to be inside, which was just as amazing as the rest of this man. Dean couldn’t wait to wreck it.

Without a single word he took the lube and poured some on the fingers of his right hand, putting his left back on Cas’s asscheek to give himself room to work, and then started circling his hole. He knew he could have warmed the lube up a bit, knew he should have, but feeling and seeing Cas shiver was quickly becoming Dean’s favorite thing.

He pushed one of his fingers inside, and damn was Cas tight. Dean went slow, pumped his finger in and out a few times, waiting for Cas to relax, and he started to go a little faster only when he felt his breathing even out. He kept his pace steady and lost himself in the action, uncaring of the passing of time. Cas was absolutely silent and absolutely relaxed, his hands just touching the desk edges, not gripping them.

Satisfied that one finger could be taken without much trouble, Dean decided to start with the second. He felt the older man tense a bit as soon as the intrusion started but relax again soon after.

Dean repeated the same process as with the first finger, slow at first, then faster and faster, scissoring the two fingers a bit every now and then, alternatively using his left hand to keep Cas’s spread like he wanted him or to rub his lower back soothingly whenever he felt him tense a bit.

They both stayed silent the whole time, the only sounds those of the in and out motion of Dean’s fingers, Cas’s breathing and occasional little moans of pleasure, and Dean’s breathing, which was getting more and more labored. He was hard as a rock and frankly having a hard time not to just go ahead and take this beautiful creature, but this was not about him yet. This was about showing Cas Dean could and would take great care of him. Dean’s time will come. Literally.

He then took his fingers out, much to Cas’s little sounds of protest, and enjoyed the view of his delightful hole fluttering close again. Not for long though. All Dean needed to do was drizzle some more lube on his fingers, which he warmed up this time, and then he went back to prepping Cas, adding a third finger this time. Cas literally exhaled in relief when he felt Dean’s fingers back to his hole, tensed when he felt the third one being added and then relaxed after a bit.

Dean couldn’t have said how much time passed. And he couldn’t have cared less. As hard and aching as his dick was, his ego was completely lost and satisfied with taking all the time in the world to open this man up, making the most of how trusting and pliant he was being. He was silent, but his panting and soft moans increased with the addition of Dean’s third finger, so he concluded the older man was approaching the end of his patience just as much as Dean was. Cas clearly spoke more with his body than with his words, and Dean would make sure to use that in the most convenient way.

When he thought Cas was ready enough that he could take him comfortably - and, frankly, when he ran out of strength and could no longer fight the need to feel that heat around his dick rather than around his fingers - Dean took his fingers out, cleaned them on the hoodie that he then proceeded to take off to remain in his t-shirt and popped the buttons of his jeans open. Cas had clearly realized what was about to happen, because he had turned his head to put his forehead on the desk and his hands were gripping the edges of the desk now. Dean took his time wearing the condom he had extracted from his back pocket, pouring as much lube as possible on his cock, and then no time at all to line himself up with Cas’s hole and breach him.

“Jesus, you’re tight. How long has it been Cas?”

Cas’s back muscles were rippled with the effort to keep himself in check, “More than a year.”

“God, aren’t I lucky?”

Cas huffed then, “Dean, I’m over a decade older than you.”

Cas said it as if that made this less hot rather than more.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be my good boy, does it? Spread your cheeks and take whatever I give you whenever I want to give it to you, right?”

A full body shiver ran through Cas then. Bingo. Dirty talk it was then.

“Does it, Cas?”

“No. No, it, ah, doesn’t.”

“Say it Cas, say you’re gonna be my good boy from now on.”

“I’m gonna-, I’m gonna be your good boy from now on.”

Yep, he must have faced and defeated the four horsemen in the past, because this was a dream come true. Dean didn’t have any troubles finding hook ups in college - he was aware of how good he looked and boys and girls alike always jumped at the chance to hop on the Winchester wagon. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t take for a ride as many of them as he could, but he needed the release with how stressed out school made him. Those were people he had to see again in class or at parties though and things sometimes got awkward when they realized he had fully meant it when he said he wasn’t interested in anything more. So having a smoking hot older man ready and willing to spread his legs for him whenever Dean wanted was too good an opportunity for him to pass up.

He was so elated he wanted to pound into this man until the desk reached the opposite wall. But Cas hadn’t taken a cock in his heavenly ass in over a year and Dean didn’t want to risk hurting it. He had plans for this ass. He had every intention to carry out a sequence of thorough tests to see what it could take, and how, and for how long.

So he slightly tightened his grip on Cas’s hips and started pushing in and out of him, slowly at first and then increasingly faster, making sure he would go a little deeper every three or four thrusts or so and, once he found Cas’s prostate - which he had carefully avoided during prep because he didn’t want this to be over before it started - that he would hit it as often as possible.

Cas for his part was growing increasingly desperate, clutching at the desk, moving his head this way and that, dropping his forehead on the desk surface with a small thunk every so often, panting and groaning and moaning more and more shamelessly the more often his prostate got hit.

“P- please.”

“Please what Cas? Tell me.”

Cas shook his head and just repeated, “Please.”

His voice sounded wrecked, almost on the verge of tears. This man was such a gift, and he was being so good, Dean decided to throw him a bone. This time.

“Tell you what Cas, I wanna be generous,” Dean told him without slowing his thrusts. “Considering you haven’t taken a dick in your ass in so long, I’m gonna give you a hand,” he said while moving his right hand to reach around and start stroking Cas’s cock slowly.

Cas almost sobbed in relief.

“But we’re gonna train you to be my very good boy and come on my cock alone, OK?”

Cas nodded, probably not even knowing what he was agreeing to. No matter, Dean would remind him, with words and actions.

“Say it Cas. Say ‘OK Dean’.”

“Ok Dean.”

Absolutely a gift. Dean draped himself over his perfect good boy, put his left hand on top of Cas’s and interlaced their fingers and then kissed him on the cheek. That was when Cas came hard, with a strangled cry. Dean fucked him through it, focusing on the feeling of his muscles clenching around his cock, and then stood back up to increase his pace again. It didn’t take much for him to come just as hard, which he did while tightening his grip on Cas’s hips almost to the point of bruising and burying himself as deep as he could into the heavenly heat that was now his to use as he pleased. 

As he waited for his breathing to slow down while he was still sheathed inside the beautiful man bent on the desk in front of him, Dean vowed that he would make sure to use a combination of rough and sweet again with Cas next time, just to see if that was what worked better for his blue-eyed, gorgeous boy.

He had plans to take as much pleasure from this man as possible, but he wanted him to enjoy himself just as much. He was so good he more than deserved it, after all.