Hospital Beds {A Destiel AU}

How It Starts [Chapter Two]

New York City, 2004

Castiel Novak

You would have thought he was used to it.

The noise of the city was overwhelming.  Car horns would blare at random points in the night.  Shining lights from apartments and racous yelling from the youth on the streets, returning from clubs and bars, minds numb with the pure ectasy of being alive.

Then again, it could just be the drugs.

Jesus fuck, he wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

Throwing his legs off the side of the bed, Cas yanked himself up.  City life was bullshit.  He should have made off with his trust fund and moved to fucking Amsterdam, at least there he might've gotten some fucking sleep.

Heaving a sigh, he stumbled out to the kitchen.  He was caffeine-deprived, and had to be in his first class in a few hours anyways. 

It was the first day he was bothering to show up. They were already a week into the second semester, but he tended to wake up around the time his physiology class ended, that was, on the nights he could fucking sleep.

Cas hated college.  He didn't think he would, he had been dreaming about getting the hell out of his conservative family life for years, yet he couldn't get used to the consistent loneliness and sadness of the whole scenario.

Even so, when the trust fund had cropped up, he had seen an oppurtunity to escape, and had leapt at the chance.  The money had been from his father, who had disappeared before Castiel's birth.  When the laywer called on Cas' 18th birthday, his mother was infuriated.  She never would have allowed him to take the money or go to college, had he not told her of the secret he had kept buried for years.

When the words left Castiel's lips his mother had screamed of blasphemy, calling him an abomination.  After throwing her youngest son from the house as his elder brothers, Micheal and Lucifer, watched in mild amusement, she had locked the doors on him.  He had retrieved the trust fund by himself, then fled from the state.

He had been forced to finish high school online.  When the time came, he sent in college applications.  He got accepted into NYU.  And now he was sitting on a cool linoleum counter drinking coffee that tasted like absolute shit.

He don't know why he expected to have a better time.  He wasn't good at making friends.  Or cooking.  That would be an incredibly useful skill at this point, he lived off cereal and toast and occasionally undercooked pasta.

The time passed quickly, Castiel had hardly moved when he heard the alarm go off from the bedroom.  Grumbling about priorities, Castiel grabbed his horrifically beat up school bag and slouched out the door.

-

The lecture hall was noisy, full of 20 year olds who didn't give a damn about education.

Cas sat in the very back, which was the roosting place of stoners and/or horny freshman who couldn't fucking keep their moans in.

He felt his face contort when he heard someone sit down next to him.  There were so many damn seats and the fucking prick sat right there. Jesus.

That was when he made the mistake of glancing over. 

In movies, you see a slow motion shot of whatever sex god is sitting there, music swells, and the person staring spills their coffee as they gaze, slack-jawed, at the person in front of them.

Now imagine that, but only with the coffee factor.

"Fucking hell!" the boy hissed out, leaping up from his seat.

"OhmyfuckinggodIamsosorryitwasanaccidentIamsoclumsyforgivemeshitshitshithereletmehelp," All the words Cas was trying to force out strung together as he yanked off his tan trench coat and thrust it at the coffee stains, rubbing it frantically on the boys pants.

There was his second mistake.

"Dude! Uh, I can do it myself! Really.  Um, buddy? You're literally rubbing that jacket all over my dick."

Castiel froze and he shrank back against his chair.  Why in the holy hell did he choose to come to class today?

The whole scenario, which to Castiel had seemed incredibly important and noisy, had in reality just been a quiet bit of ruffling and hissed words.  He took this oppurtunity of the other boys distraction to shamelessly admire him more.  He looked angelic, almost, with his wide green orbs for eyes and light, spiked up hair, and soft, plump lips. Lord have mercy, Cas was hard.

Dean

Deans' penis was in a compromising situation. 

The coffee hadn't been scalding,  but it sure as hell wasn't pleasant having a hot liquid on his manhood.

All he was trying to do was make the new guy, who he hadn't seen in the lecture hall before, feel less awkward.

And now the situation was violently uncomfortable.  Made more so by the dark haired boy rubbing his jacket along Dean's crotch.  So now his dick was both coffee scented and hard.  Why.  How did this happen to him.

Finally convincing the boy to stop molesting him, Dean dared to shoot a glance down to make sure the guy wasn't hyperventilating still, only to catch him, oh fuck, ogling Dean.  God help him, he had attracted a gay.

Dean had never seen a problem with gays, but his father had it beat into his skull that they were disgusting, and when Dean had first shown interest in the same sex, he'd said that no son of his would be a faggot.  That's how Dean knew this pretty boy with wide, cerulean eyes and hair that looked as if he had just underwent rough sex, was going to be a huge fucking problem in his life.

That wasn't helping his hard on.

He shuffled together his wild thoughts long enough to say, "I'm Dean Winchester by the way, I suppose I should tell you that."

The blue eyed boy continued staring.  Dean wondered if he ever blinked. 

"Castiel.  Cas. Novak. Cas Novak. Yeah. Uh, my name," Castiel blushed and stared down at the cuffs of his shirt. 

"Well Cas Novak," Dean said with a half grin, "Please do not touch my penis again without mutual consent."

Cas flushed harder.

-

yo I spent all day on this piece o' shit and its hella short writing is hard I'm so angry also I only proofread it twice so there's probs mistakes yeah I hope this isn't too horrific