cupidsbow (cupidsbow) wrote,

Fic: "Loophole" by cupidsbow (SPN, Dean/Castiel, R)

The exchange season is just about over for another year.

I ended up defaulting on the Teen Wolf fest, which was disappointing given I have an almost finished novella sitting in my WIPs folder. Oh well. I got a great fic as a gift, though. It's a timetravel AU that makes Teen Wolf canon make sense! It's a novella by static_abyss, Set in Stone (warning for canonical character deaths).

For the DeanCas Xmas Exchange, I scored a lovely friendship AU fic by Victumbraticum: Not Reached by the Frost (warning for domestic violence).

My own DeanCas fic is also an AU...

Title: Loophole
Author: [personal profile] cupidsbow
Recipient: huchamabacha
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 3000
Summary: Castiel is a student of humanity. Dean is a hands-on kind of teacher.
Author's Note: For 2014 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange.

After six months of teaching at the Academy, Dean was back out in the field, and he loved it and hated it. None of his kids died, so there was that, and he was proud as shit they all passed the final and ganked their ghosts. Krissy and Kevin, in particular, showed a lot of leadership potential, and he was going to recommend Deanna offer them advanced placement.

“I hate ghosts,” Kevin said, as he cleaned off his shovel. “They’re so sad.”

“And gross,” Krissy said, picking some ectoplasm off her jacket. “But that was easier than I thought.”

Dean cuffed her ear. “Don’t get cocky. Don’t get dead.”

She just grinned at him, and he felt a jolt of pride. God, she was just like him. “We get burgers now, right?” she said.

“Burgers coming right up,” Dean agreed, ignoring Benny’s look, because he knew Benny had a secret burger juice habit and it was good for him to show students like Gordon the ropes when it came to safely indulging the old fangy appetites.

So that part of being back in the field he loved, and after burgers they got to take out a poltergeist in the town -- a red-faced Deputy running up to them when they were about to blow out of the burger place’s parking lot -- and that was good too. It was like old times: the grit of salt between his fingers, coming up with a plan of attack and knowing Benny and the kids had his back, and that moment all the prep came together and he knew he got it right and the bastard started to fade out. They made a hell of a hunting team, and part of him wanted to just say fuck it all, give up the teaching and ask Deanna to assign him a partner again. Get back to hunting, hit the road, protecting people, killing things. Rolling into town in baby, with nothing to his name but a reputation and girl in every port...

He missed his bed, though, was the thing. It had only been a couple of weeks on the road, but he was already sick of hotels -- the bad smells, the stained carpets, the saggy mattresses and bad TV reception. He was a man of simple tastes, and after just six months teaching at the Academy he wanted his own bed, decent food, and the little creature comforts he allowed himself. Teaching had made him soft, he was man enough to admit it, and now he didn’t want to go back to sleeping in the back of the Impala and living off cheap hamburgers, and never seeing the same people long enough to know them.

He was over it. He’d already known it, in his heart, back when he first got injured, which is why he took the Academy job when Deanna offered instead of just going on sick leave like he could have. It wasn’t really because he broke his arm, or because Christian got possessed by a demon. They were just the excuses. He’d known the sand had run out on being a full-time hunter a year ago when he got stuck in that timeloop, and this field trip with the students had just driven it home. He was ready to settle down.

“Ready, Juliet?” Benny asked, goddamnit, like he could read the pity party and homesickness happening inside Dean’s head. Benny had known Dean was pining for a white picket fence before Dean had. Maybe he could smell it on him with that keen vampire nose of his.

“Don’t call me that,” Dean said, because he may have gone soft but he still hated that star-crossed lovers bullshit. The Montagues and Capulets could bite him, unlike Benny, who could go fuck himself. He glared at Benny, and then yelled at his kids to stop horsing around and get in the Impala already and stop making him look bad, because Benny already had his three trainees in his battered old ute, just to rub it in.

Benny just laughed as he climbed into the ute's cab. The asshole. This was revenge for the burger thing, Dean could tell.


Castiel slid down until he was on his knees between Dean’s legs. He wasn’t hesitant in opening Dean’s zip, and watched his cock grow and poke its way out of the gap with heated curiosity that was somehow both innocent and knowing. It was enough to make Dean’s skin prickle with sweat, and he let his thighs splay further open in invitation.

Castiel gently thumbed the tip, in the process slicking the moisture there around the head, making Dean shudder with how good it felt. Dean half expected him to make a comment about blood pressure or the elegant design of the human form, but instead Castiel said, “My knowledge of fornication is largely theoretical.”

“Uh,” Dean said. “That’s...okay?”

Castiel’s thumb was still stroking maddeningly along the slit of Dean’s cock, and his cheeks were flushed as he looked up to meet Dean’s gaze.

“Instruct me, Dean. Tell me what I should do.”

It was an appealing idea, which Dean was pretty sure Castiel knew, judging by the sly way he was looking up at him, mouth just slightly open as he breathed in Dean’s scent. Dean actually considered it for a moment -- talking Castiel through giving a blow job, making it slow and detailed and teasing them both with fake perfectionism before either of them were allowed to come -- but he never had been a big one for dirty talk.

“Just do whatever feels good,” he said, as he cupped Castiel’s cheek and tugged him into a soft kiss that Castiel accepted but didn’t really return, as though it really was the first time he’d ever been kissed. “Open your mouth more,” Dean murmured, playing along, and when Castiel did, he deepened the kiss, sucking on his lower lip and scratching his nails gently through Castiel’s hair. Castiel jolted and moaned, pushing into his touch like a shameless cat in search of petting.

When Dean pulled away, Castiel was looking at him wide-eyed and red-mouthed. His tongue darted out, licking his lips.

“Do whatever feels good,” Dean said again, and this time Castiel nodded as though he understood, head bowing as he looked down at his fingers wrapped around Dean’s flushed skin.

Castiel breathed deep, nose nudging against Dean’s cock, maybe even on purpose, the glancing touch making Dean shiver; and then his mouth closed around the head, warm and soft and tentative. Dean sighed with pleasure, head falling back against the sofa, skin alive to every touch, mind as blank as the ceiling. "Yeah," he said, "like that," fingers curling deeper in Castiel's hair.













“Dean,” Benny said, before Sam could text a response. “The Boss wants a word.” He pulled out the chair at the other desk in their shared office and sat down, flicking on his computer.

“A good word or the other kind?” Dean got up from his own squeaky-wheeled chair and shoved his phone into his pocket.

Benny shrugged. “I can’t always tell the difference.”

Dean nodded, because Deanna ran a tight ship, but she could be the freaking Sphinx when she wanted to be. “Hey, did one of the kids post pictures of our trip somewhere?” If Sam had seen them, then no doubt Deanna had too, oh-shit eyebrows and all.

“Probably.” Benny gave him a look. It was a judging look. Dean felt judged. “You shouldn’t call them kids. Gordon’s nearly thirty.”

“Yeah, but he’s only one in vampire years, Benny,” Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder as he headed out of their office. “That makes him a kid to me.”

When he got to Deanna’s office, she waved him in and made him lift half a dozen boxes that felt like they had rocks in them, but at least this time she didn’t grill him about the likelihood of Sam coming to work for the Academy and help them find legal loopholes in demon contracts, so he lifted the damn boxes and counted himself lucky.

“You and Benny seem to be working well together,” Deanna said, as she opened the flap on one of the boxes and pulled out a stone tablet. He knew it! Fucking rocks. The one Deanna was looking at was covered in jagged writing, maybe Enochian, which probably meant there was some kind of Angel trouble brewing. “I know you had some reservations about working with one of our non-human agents.”

“Benny’s okay,” Dean said, cautiously. He’d seen too much shit over the years not to have some reservations about non-humans, but he could do worse than stay teamed up with Benny. Christian, for instance. Dean really hated every all-human inch of Christian. He'd actually been less of a dick when he'd been possessed, which should have been Dean's first clue, come to think of it.

Deanna put the tablet carefully down on her desk. “You’re a better teacher than I was expecting.”

“Uh,” Dean said, starting to feel like the jaws of a beautifully oiled trap where lying in wait somewhere in this conversation. “We’ve had some pretty good recruits.”

“Yes, I was pleased with their practical examination results.” Deanna looked at Dean in that assessing way that rarely meant anything good. “And your arm has healed well.”

Son of a bitch. No wonder she’d asked him to lift boxes full of rocks. When mom retired from active field duty last year, they’d stuck him with fucking Christian as a partner. Long story short, Dean had ended up with a compound fracture, concussion, and a mandatory six month vacation from the field. Christian, meanwhile, got a slap on the wrist and was teamed up with Rufus, which served him right. If anyone could lick that douchenozzle into shape it would be Rufus.

“You’re sending me back into the field,” Dean said, not sure how to argue her out of it. So much for his comfy bed and tentative dreams of a white picket fence.

“No, sweetheart.” Deanna smiled and patted him on the cheek. “I’m going to give you a choice.”


Castiel’s forehead was creased in concentration as he pulled off Dean’s cock, a strand of spit stretching up to his lip until he licked it away. “Is my technique adequate?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice coming out all breathy and wrecked. This whole innocent schtick was really doing it for him. Castiel was damn good at it, for a million-year-old, all-knowing, super-powered sunbeam.

“Like this?” Castiel said. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, and Dean forced himself to let go of Castiel's head and grip the couch cushions to keep from jerking his hips up and Castiel's head down so he could fuck Castiel’s throat deep and hard. As though he could read Dean’s mind, Castiel worked his way down the length of his cock until his nose was nuzzling Dean’s hair, before pulling up again and licking the head with broad, flat strokes of his tongue.

Jesus, Dean wanted to say. God. Christ. Holy shit. He bit his lip and kept the words locked on his tongue, but couldn’t hold back the moans as Castiel’s fingers inched their way up the soft skin on the inside of his thighs and crooked in behind his balls, curious to touch everywhere.

Dean knew how that felt. He unclenched one of his fists, cupped Castiel’s jaw, and ran his thumb over the bulge in his cheek, feeling the movement of his own dick inside. Dean’s thighs were starting to tremor, and he could feel his orgasm build with every slick, wet sound Castiel made.

Castiel changed angles and Dean could see his face better. His cheeks were a hectic red, his breath almost as erratic as Dean’s, but his eyes were closed and he looked peaceful, as though this simple act deserved all his concentration.

“Are you even hard?” Dean choked out, because he was close now, so close, and he had to know.

Castiel pulled off and opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Do you want to see?”


“Well, I think it’s romantic,” Jo said, and smiled at Dean with far too many teeth. She was sitting on the armoury table, kicking her legs, as though she didn’t have an actual job to do.

Dean ignored her, and kept re-packing salt rounds into his kit. He’d liked her a lot better when she’d had that irritating crush on him. These days she was far too interested in what he was doing in bed with other people, and seemed to be trying to single-handedly keep the Academy's gossip mill turning over.

When Dean didn't rise to her bait, Jo turned to Benny. “Don’t you think it’s romantic, Benny? The way he came down from Heaven, just to save Dean from that demon?”

“Yep,” Benny said. Traitor.

“Christian was possessed,” Dean pointed out. “There’s nothing romantic about being possessed.” Or about compound fractures. It wasn’t like Castiel used his angel mojo to heal him up, or anything. Just wham-bam, gotta go chase this demon back to Hell, bye Dean. Six months and not even a Get Well Soon card. Not that Dean was keeping track or anything.

“What about the time Castiel saved you and Mary from that timeloop,” Jo said.

“What about it?” Dean said, because there was no way Jo could know the truth about that. Mom had sworn she’d never tell. Other than Castiel, mom was the only one who knew about Dean's white picket fence fetish and the endless Christmas the three of them had lived over and over until Castiel had figured out how to break the loop.

“Mary said you introduced Castiel to mistletoe. Tell me that's not romantic!” Jo looked gleeful, and Benny didn't even pretend he wasn't laughing. Assholes.

Dean felt betrayed. There had been mistletoe. It was pretty romantic. His mom was a stinking liar.

Kevin looked up from where he was refilling the salt rounds in his own hunting kit. At least he wasn't laughing. “I thought Angels weren’t allowed to interfere in human affairs.”

“Apparently Romeo found a loophole,” Benny said. “The Boss checked it and everything. And now he’s coming down to liaise with Dean. One-on-one. Mano-a-angelo. As commanded by God.”

“It’s not a like that,” Dean protested. “He's got a teaching position here. It’s politics!”

“So are marriages of state,” Jo said, and started humming Here Comes the Bride.


Castiel sat back on his heels, knees wide apart. His dress trousers were tented, and he pulled the material tight so that Dean could see the outline of his erection.

Dean was impressed. “Is that for me?”

Castiel nodded.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. He looked down at his erection and then back up at the way Dean was staring. "Do you want me to touch myself?"

“Hold that thought." Dean moved his foot between Castiel’s splayed legs. "I’m just gonna…” He pressed down slowly against the bulge in Castiel's pants, testing the hardness.

Castiel didn’t give at all, his balance as steady as if he were anchored, watching Dean’s foot move, watching the hard line in his pants press up against his own abdomen, watching the way his cock visibly twitched, and then his mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide, and his hands flew up, landing on Dean’s knees and gripping hard. He made a sound, deep and low, as two hard blurts of white pressed right through the tightly stretched fabric of his pants and dribbled down the outside. Dean eased his foot back and watched the wet spot grow.


Castiel's tie was askew, and he kept looking at Dean’s mouth. He’d stared at him all the way through Deanna’s welcoming speech, and was still doing it now they were alone in Dean's quarters.

“You said you were tired of me ‘flapping off’ all the time,” Castiel said.

Dean had said that, but he hadn’t thought Castiel was listening. A month stuck in a timeloop together, and then whoosh, no more angel. Dean might have ranted a bit. It hadn't been his most shining moment of maturity.

Still staring at Dean’s mouth, Castiel added, “When I was recalled to Heaven, you prayed I'd return to you. After you taught me that human custom.”

“With the mistletoe." It had been one of the final loops before they'd escaped, and Dean had thought maybe it had scared Castiel off.

Castiel licked his lips and took a step closer, so that he was right up in Dean's personal space. "All my brothers and sisters heard your prayer."

"You get into trouble for that?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean reached up and cupped Castiel’s jaw, rubbing his thumb along his cheek, watching Castiel lean into it like a cat. “Want to get into more trouble?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, and sucked Dean’s thumb into his mouth.


As though his strings were cut, Castiel capsized forward, until his forehead was pressed up against Dean’s trembling thigh. Dean twined his fingers back through Castiel’s hair, and with his other hand stroked himself off, hard and fast, balls so tight they hurt and dick already tingling. Castiel shifted so that his nose was nuzzled up against Dean’s balls, tongue darting out to taste. Dean’s whole body jerked as he came all over Castiel’s face.

They both rested for a moment, catching their breath. Castiel didn't seem particularly bothered that he was covered in Dean's spunk. After a moment, Dean wiped the worst of it off Castiel's face with the heel of his hand and rubbed it off on his shirt.

“You promised we could share a bed together,” Castiel said into Dean's thigh. "If I came back."

“Yeah?” Dean pulled him in for a kiss, fingers still tacky with come and uncaring of the mess. Castiel licked him and then kissed back, soft and slow, like they had an infinite amount of time for kissing and no reason to ever stop. "It just so happens I have a really, really great bed. Wanna try it out?"

"Yes," Castiel said. "I want to try everything."

This entry was originally posted at
Tags: dean/castiel, fest, supernatural
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