rivers_bend

Title: Five Times Dean didn't suck Sam and one time he did (part 4/6)
Words: ~2450
Rating: Adult
Genre: canon het
Characters: Dean/Cassie
Spoilers: Non-specific for Route 666 1:13
Disclaimer: Not for profit. Like a charity, but without the good deeds.
A/N: Het is not my thing. Cannon Het even less so. But a history of Dean's sexual exploits that ignored Cassie just didn’t seem right. So here she is. The kind and generous lima_sierra did beta duty and assures me that the het's all good.
Summary: Cassie answered the door in the smallest t-shirt he'd seen in ages, jeans that fit like a second skin, and bare feet.



Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Four

It didn't look much like a student hang-out from the outside; if it had, Dean never would have gone in. By the time he noticed the Ohio crowd, he had a beer in his hand and he didn't want to waste it. Dean didn't understand college students. Never had, never would. It wasn't that Dean didn't believe there was stuff to be learned from books, just, why learn only what someone else wanted to teach you instead of what you wanted or needed to know? Waste of time, waste of money. Not to mention, you ended up stuck in one place for four fricken years.

Anyone who wanted to go to college had to be touched in the head.

A buzz against his hip interrupted his thoughts. He caught it before it started ringing. Dad. Following a lead on something; he'd be back in a few days to pick up this case again. Did Dean mind hanging around til he decided to show his face again. Why not? And good thing he was in a bar already. If he wasn't gonna get to hunt, he might as well get drunk.

Turning his back on the bar, Dean surveyed the room. There was an empty table in the corner by the dart board, so Dean ordered a second beer and went to watch while the guys playing finished their game. The one in a rugby shirt wasn't very good. Twice in a row he missed the board completely. Started complaining that the darts weren't weighted right.

'That's a bullshit excuse and you know it.' The voice came from Dean's left.

There was a table with three girls and a guy drinking a pitcher of what looked like Margaritas. Dean couldn’t tell which of the girls had spoken.

'Shut up, Cassie,' Mr Rugby Shirt said. 'I'd like to see you do better.'

'Not a problem.' The girl who stood up was the last one Dean expected to be a darts fan. She looked like a fashion model, too perfectly done out for a Wednesday evening down at the local watering hole. She held out her hand for the darts.

'Come on, Cass. Show him how it's done.' The bleached blonde, who was swilling her drink like someone had threatened to take it away, didn't need the Hooters t-shirt to call attention to her tits. Dean's eyes found their way to them all on their own.

The thunk of a dart hitting the board drew his eyes back to the action. Cassie had not been boasting idly. All three darts ended up clustered around the center of the board.

'They seem weighted just fine to me,' she said as she pulled them out.

'Well, that's because –' rugby shirt started.

'Dude, shut the fuck up. You suck. Go with it,' his darts playing friend said.

Cassie turned to him. 'So, Carl, do you want a game?'

Pouring himself another drink, Carl said, 'I don't think so.'

The girl in the Hooters shirt started making clucking noises like a chicken.

'I'll give you a game,' Dean said, over the laughter around the table.

Cassie turned to him in surprise. She seemed to be weighing him up. Obviously she liked what she saw, as she said, 'D'you want to go first?'

'Sure.' Dean suspected ladies first wouldn't go down well with this girl. 'I'm Dean. Cassie, yeah?'

They ended up playing for the next two hours. When Cassie's friends were ready to go, she picked up her purse to go with them. Jill, she of the hooters, looked significantly in Dean's direction. 'Are you out of your mind?' she hissed.

Cassie looked at him, clearly embarrassed.

Dean discovered he really didn't want her to go. 'We could go for a drive if you want?'

'You ok to drive?'

Dean was pretty sure no girl had ever asked him if he was sober enough to get behind the wheel. He kinda liked that Cassie just said what she was thinking. 'Two beers in two hours. I think I'm good. You distracted me from the devil liquor with darts and conversation.'

'And my ass.' Damn, she'd caught him staring. Though she was smiling, so maybe she didn’t mind.

The Impala was parked in the circle of light cast by the standard in the corner of the lot. Dean had waxed her earlier and he couldn't help patting her as he unlocked the door for Cassie.

'Wow,' she said. 'How old is your car?'

With her back to him, Dean couldn’t tell if she was impressed or thought he should be driving something newer. She better not be dissing his car, or she could go try to catch up with her friends. 'She's a '67.' Dean didn’t try to hide the rush of pride that gave him.

Turning to look at him, Cassie said, 'I've always wanted a classic car. Dad's got a dealership so we always have something new in the driveway.'

Well then. That was just fine. She spoke her mind, she played darts, and she liked his baby. They could go for a drive.

'I'm new around here,' Dean said once his car was purring under him. 'Where should we go?'

'There's Stroud's Run. We could drive around the lake. Maybe stop and look at the woods for a while.'

Woods. Dean's absolute favorite. He tried to think back to all Dad's stories; trying to remember if there had ever been anything about any of the Ohio parks. Forests were home to all sorts of nasty, but he couldn't think of anything specific. Besides, he'd just re-stocked the trunk, thinking he and Dad would be hunting tonight. 'Sounds good. You happy to navigate?'

They got lost twice on the way there because Cassie had her hand on Dean's thigh and wasn't paying attention to the road. Ok, maybe the second time was his fault. She did tell him to turn, but he was too busy tracing the bones in her wrist, feeling the skin inside her arm, to see the road in time. They got there in the end though.

The lake was reflecting the light of the nearly full moon and was more impressive than Dean had expected, but he was just as glad when Cassie said, 'Never mind the lake, there's a parking lot at the head of a bridle path up to the left. No one uses it at night. How roomy is that back seat?'

Dean remembered it being pretty roomy. He and Sam used to sleep together back there and neither of them ever fell off. It had been a while however, and it wasn't quite as big as he'd thought. Cassie was flexible in more ways than one though, and they made do.

On the way back to Cassie's house, they drove past Dean's motel. 'That's where I'm staying.' Which maybe sounded like he wanted her to know how to find him. That he wanted something more than a hook-up. Which he totally didn't. Not if she didn't, anyway.

But she smiled and said, 'Good to know.'

Her street was close to the university, a couple of blocks from the bar where they'd started the evening. Her housemates had left the porch light on. He pulled up out front and killed the engine. 'So, um…' Dean didn’t know what it was about this girl that made him feel so comfortable and so awkward at the same time.

'I have a class at two tomorrow. But I could make you dinner afterwards, if you wanted. If you're not busy, I mean.'

Which should have made him nervous, but made him relieved instead. 'Sure. That sounds good.'

'Great!' Cassie kissed him quickly on the lips. 'Come by about six?'

Nodding got Dean another smile. For good measure, he kissed Cassie again, slowly, before she got out of the car. Then waited until she was safely inside with the door shut.

**
At five fifty Dean pulled over to the curb a block and a half from Cassie's house. It wouldn't do to look too eager. Not that he was eager. Just with Dad still gone, the motel room was pretty boring. Oprah'd gone to shit lately, all make-overs and community heroes and stuff. If you wanted I slept with my brother and now I'm doing his wife you had to watch Jerry Springer. And no way was Dean watching that. The people in his audience were scary. And Dean knew scary when he saw it. So it wasn't really that he wanted to see Cassie that badly. Just there was nothing on TV.

Metallica were half way through For Whom the Bell Tolls when he pulled over, so he figured by the time they got to Escape, or maybe Creeping Death it'd be time to go. He played a little air-drum, but some kid going past on a bike laughed, so he stopped. Fucking kids.

Trapped Under Ice seemed to go on forever. Dean looked at his watch. 6:01. Screw fashionably late. He was going now.

Cassie answered the door in the smallest t-shirt he'd seen in ages, jeans that fit like a second skin, and bare feet. She had a large dish towel in one hand and a smudge of red sauce on her nose. 'Hi,' she said, a delighted smile on her face. Dean was pretty sure he was supposed to have an answer to that. One that didn't involve licking her anywhere, not even in the interests of de-saucing her. Or, you know, checking to see if that strip of skin above the waist of her jeans tasted salty or sweet. Something where he opened his mouth and sounds came out.

'Aah,' he managed.

'You ok?' The little wrinkle of concern Cassie got over her nose called Dean's attention to the sauce again. Totally of its own volition, his hand lifted and he wiped it off with his thumb. Then, and he really didn't mean to do it, he lifted his thumb to his mouth and sucked the sauce off it.

Wiping at her face with the dishcloth, Cassie looked at him like he was a little bit crazy. 'I hope that's what we're having for dinner,' Dean said. 'It's delicious.' Of course. Now that he'd already made a complete fool out of himself, the words came back.

'Spaghetti and meatballs. Hope that's ok.' She was still looking at him a little funny, but Dean was pretty sure that was a smile flirting around the edges of her lips.

'Sounds delicious. And sorry. I don't usually… You look amazing.' Nice one, Dean. What are you, fifteen?

'Come on into the kitchen. Can I get you a drink?'

The kitchen was what Dean thought real estate agents would probably call 'cozy.' Narrow, with a breakfast nook at one end. But it smelled gorgeous and seemed to have everything a person would need to make a homecooked meal. Dean had always wanted a kitchen that looked and smelled like this.

'Sit down. I was just about to do the meatballs.' Cassie stopped at the stove and gestured towards the seating in the window.

Dean wanted her to tell him where she learned to make meatballs. He wanted to know who taught her to play darts. He wanted to hear how she'd chosen Ohio for college. All of which made him feel like Sam had taken over his brain. He also wanted to taste Cassie again, which was much more the Dean he knew and loved. So he did.

Her lips were just as soft and responsive as he remembered from the night before. She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, the other one dropping the towel and curling around his arm. Dean got both hands on her ass, and it really was a fantastic ass, and pulled her tight against him. When he pulled away, intent on tasting her neck, she stopped him. 'Burning,' she said, groping behind her for the stove controls.

Dean saw the ring was still on under the sauce so he twisted the dial to the off position. The smell was making his mouth water, but no matter how good it smelled, there was no way it could taste as good as Cassie.

'Where were we?' Cassie was wiggling up against him and had both arms around his neck.

'I think I was here,' Dean said, licking a curve along the line of her jaw.

It was all hot hands and wet mouths and friction, and then Dean was on his knees, pressing Cassie back against the refrigerator door, finally licking that strip of skin at her waist. She was salty and sweet and Dean was pretty sure he was addicted to the taste of her already.

He was peeling her jeans off her hips when he remembered. 'Housemates?'

'Out tonight.' Cassie was breathless, and helping push the stiff denim out of the way.

There was a glimpse of red lace that Dean had only a moment to wish he'd seen against Cassie's skin – he did love a woman in lace underwear – but then she was kicking everything off and it was just her in front of him. She smelled like lemons and roses and tomato sauce. Spanning her hips with his hands, Dean buried his nose in the groove at the top of her thigh.

Dean took his time, mapping the difference in the textures of Cassie's stomach, her hips, her thighs, ignoring her pleading and the fingers she was trying to twist in his too-short hair. Only when she said she was going to send him away without supper did he finally suck her clit into his mouth. That made her swear and buck her hips, so he opened her with this thumbs and licked carefully at that spot again and again until her legs were shaking and she was begging him for more and harder and faster.

With fingers, lips, tongue, and teeth, Dean pushed her to the edge of orgasm and then stopped, holding her there with just the pad of his thumb against her clit. She called down the wrath of the heavens on his head, but he just slowly fucked his fingers into her and watched her face. When she looked near tears of frustration, he relented and sucked her clit until she came.

When Cassie started sliding towards the floor, Dean pulled her down onto his lap. 'You're evil, you know,' she said into his neck once she got her breath back.

Dean smiled.

'Just for that I'm gonna make you fuck me on this floor before I feed you.'

Dean couldn't see where that was much of a punishment.

Part 5