Dean hated this camp. He hated having to teach rich snobs about dancing. All they wanted to do was the boring shit anyway and they never listened to him. At least at the end of the day he got to go to the staff quarters and dance however he wanted. There was one however that had caught his eye. Cute little black haired, blue eyed teenager. The kid had been staring and Dean had caught it out of the corner of his eye and let a seductive smirk play at his lips.

Eventually, the kid slipped from his mind as he taught some stupid dancing lessons and oversaw activities. Damn rich people. None of them were street smart. . . or even smart for that matter. He hated this camp but he needed the money. Still fuming at the end of the day, he headed to the staff quarters. It was dark but the lights kept him on the path up to the mess hall. 

He walked in and everyone whooped. The music blared and the floor was worn down and it was absolutely perfect. Now, he was home. He immediately grabbed the closest hot guy and grinded into him. The guy he grabbed moved easily with his body and the music, hands everywhere they should and shouldn't be. It was hot and heavy and absolutely wonderful. The guy's shirt was open and Dean trailed his fingers along his abs discreetly then noticed the dark haired kid in the corner. He handed off the guy he'd been dancing with to Adam, an old friend, and danced his way over. "What's he doin here Sam?" he asked his brother who'd been standing by the kid. The music was loud and he had to shout over it.

Sam smiled, "He's with me," he said and Dean chuckled. "I know you better than that Sammy," he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Just then, the kid spoke up, "I carried a watermellon," he said in an impossible deep voice. Dean wondered how old he was. The older boy chuckled and shook his head a little then left Sam and his. . . 'friend' and went out to dance again. He grabbed another guy and started whirling around with him to the music, making eyes at the dark-haired little beauty by Sam. 

Soon the song was over and Dean pulled the boy he'd been dancing with close. They were both panting and grinning a little and their faces were inches apart. They both chuckled breathlessly then the next song came on and everyone hollared and started dancing. Dean winked and gave the boy a pat on the ass then went over to Sam and his friend. "C'mon," he said, holding out a hand to blue-eyes. He was confident and he knew Sam's little friend wasn't. 

Blue-eyes looked toward Sam for help as Dean dragged him on the dance floor. Sam shrugged and his little buddy came a bit easier. "What's your name?" Dean asked as he found a spot for them to dance. "C-Cas," came the quiet answer. Dean nodded his okay and put his hands on Cas's hips. "Alright, look me in the eyes move your hips like this," he said, demonstrating. Cas nodded and coppied the movement, Dean fixing any mistakes. 

Eventually they were into a slow, hot grind. Cas was practically rinding Dean's leg and the older boy loved it. He wrapped an arm around the dark-haired boy's waist and studied his muscles, occasionally running his hand up the younger boy's stomach and grinding slow. They were both half hard and breathless by the time the song was done and Dean grinned, looking Cas up and down. 

"You've got some moves," he said, still keeping Cas pressed against him. Cas smirked, letting his cockier side show, "As do you," the younger boy said, licking his lips. Dean smirked and leaned a little closer, "I'd like to see some more," he whispered, studying blue eyes. Cas smirked and just then the head directer walked in, saying something about activities for the next day. Everyone stopped and broke apart quickly and the music stopped. Dean quickly stepped in front of Cas, hiding him from view and keeping a hand on his hip so he wouldn't move. 

Dean leaned his head back a bit to tell Cas that he needed to go then felt a hand in each of his back pockets, pulling him flush against the younger man's chest, "Shh, he wont see if im right against you," Cas whispered. Dean's breath hitched and Cas teased him a little more, wrigling his fingers. "Are you listening Winchester?" The director asked, face red with anger. "Yes sir," Dean answered, voice clear. 

Eventually the Director left and Dean turned around, chuckling. "You little shit," He murmured. Cas grinned cheekily. Dean glanced at his watch, "You'd better go."

"But--"

"No. You have to go."

Cas sighed and turned to leave, "see you around?" he asked, before he started walking away. Dean nodded and watched the younger boy go, shamelessly studying the boy's ass. Sam walked up behind him. "Man you're in deep shit," he said. Dean rolled his eyes, "i know."