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Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. -James 4:7–8
The church lies empty in the middle of a crisp autumn night. Everywhere else in this small town, there’s crickets chirping softly and frogs croaking alongside in earnest, filling the night sky with a chorus only conjured by Mother Nature herself. But not here, not on these holy grounds, not on this night. It is silent, eerily so when there should be the sounds of the surrounding woods in its stead. Hollow wind passes through, echoing in a whisper across rattling window frames, encouraging the antique structure to creak and weep. Trees softly sway in their own fluid dance as the wind picks up, an ode to war ahead.
Castiel runs his fingers across the firm, wooden beads of his rosary, pacing back and forth before the locked door he’s been assigned to guard. He is nervous - terrified even, of what lies just inside. He was just ordained last week, and the Catholic Church has already thrown him straight into the fire alongside his trusted superior, Father Bobby. It’s cold, even inside this sealed up building he can see his own breath puffing out in small clouds around his lips. Castiel finally stops in front of the door, debating if he should just leave and forget priesthood altogether. But somehow his feet stay planted, determined, like this was his right of passage. He seeks the Lord’s guidance, and quickly finds himself in a hushed prayer, still massaging the trembling beads within his grasp, his head lowered.
“Father.” A low and raspy voice addresses him, startling him from his pleas to the divine.
“Father Bobby!” He replies quickly. His face and hands have become clammy.
Father Bobby Singer has lived in this church and led its parish for the better part of thirty years, practically watching Castiel grow up within its walls. When Cas took his first steps, it was towards Father Singer, like the little one was guided by God himself into this line of holy servitude. Perhaps that is why Castiel was so determined to complete this God forsaken task, because this was the only life he had ever known. There was nothing outside of this church, not for him that is. Not with the sins he has committed.
“I must urge you to leave any personal doubts and worries you have right here, outside of this room, Cas. Don’t bring them inside. I’m not just asking you as your superior, I’m asking as your friend. Any sign of weakness just opens the door-”
“I understand.” Cas interjects, trying to remain stoic. To remain brave, for Bobby.
With a heavy sigh, Bobby nods at the younger man in approval, before turning to open the door. He fishes in his pocket for the key, unlocking a large padlock that secures a thick chain around the knobs of the squeaky double doors. It falls to the floor with a heavy clank at his feet, while he uses another key to unlock the actual door itself. He hesitates for just a moment, both of their breaths hitching in their chests with anticipation. And then Bobby pushes the doors open, gesturing for the younger priest to step inside the dark room.
The atmosphere instantly shifts, the air around them feels rotten and tarnished. Castiel can’t see a thing once inside, the only light they have is that of what leaks in through a small, stained glass window from above. Bobby fumbles with the door for a minute in the darkness, before successfully locking it once more, trapping them inside with a beast. A sharp click, and there’s finally some light. Long, fluorescent bulbs flicker and buzz as they warm up to their full power, a hazy yellow tint lingers in the room around them.
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. -1 Peter 5:8
A man around Cas' age sits bound to a rickety wooden chair. His head sags forward, chin against his chest. His dusty brown hair lays sweaty and disheveled, and a large plume of blood blossoms out across his chest in a crimson stain, dripping slowly from his bottom lip. The skin around his wrists is a deep purple that seeps out from beneath the ropes that bind him there, and his body slightly sways with each deep and ragged breath. The image was unsettling, disturbing. Castiel feels like he shouldn’t be in here, like he’s seeing something forbidden.
“Father,” Bobby addresses him softly. “Join me in The Lord’s Prayer.”
Cas nodded silently in response, standing in place as Bobby slowly paced around the bound man, flicking and splashing holy water around him on the ground as they spoke.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” The priests recite together. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Cas jumps when the man stirs, a deep grunt escapes his bruised lips.
“Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.”
The man slowly allows a deep, amused laugh to rumble up from his chest, his tone mocking while they round out their prayer.
“For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever.”
Bobby sighs again, gearing up for battle. “Amen.”
“Amen.” Cas says softly, eyes unmoving form the man who animated to life, risen from the dead it seemed.
He looked sick, skin clammy and pale, the hallows of his eyes a faint shade of pink.
“Amen!” He bellows in mocking at the priests, mouth cracking into a sly smirk.
Bobby has none of this, throwing a splash of holy water at the man. Cas gasps in shock when the man hisses in pain, his skin sizzling as the water soaks in. It burns him, like a cow being branded. Castiel didn't know what he had expected when Bobby told him he’d be assisting him in an exorcism, but he knew this wasn’t it.
When the man opens his eyes as the pain subsides, they’re black. Pure as night, obsidian orbs that pierce straight through you, menacing and evil.
"You son of a bitch!" The demon bellows. "I'll fucking skin you with my teeth."
Bobby doesn’t back down, his gaze on the demon before them is just as intense and intimidating as the beast’s. It’s a standoff, an assertion of dominance. Cas trembles, he can hardly look at the thing because he’s so frightened.
“The man’s name is Dean Winchester. He’s 32 years old from Lawrence, Kansas. Has a younger brother by four years, both parents deceased.” Bobby speaks to his pupil, but his eyes stay fixated on the demon, who cocks his head in interest as the Father speaks.
“His brother, Sam, is the one who reached out to the church for help, said his brother had been acting strange for months before completely vanishing. Then, Dean shows back up at their home and tries to murder him and his girlfriend in the middle of the night. Sam says he saw the black eyes and knew that they needed help.” Now Bobby’s eyes shift to Cas, who gulps when he meets his gaze. “They just barely escaped. This demon put Sam’s girlfriend in the hospital.”
“Almost killed the bitch too.” Dean adds simply, like it was no big deal. “But you know how it goes, you can't have eyes in the back of your head. Get knocked out cold, left for dead…” he trails off, waiting for one of them to fill in the blank for him.
Another splash of holy water from Bobby makes the demon scream, an animalistic growl rattles his teeth as it leaves his mouth.
"You're really beginning to piss me off." Dean seethes through his teeth, leaning forward against his chest restraints and trying to bust free before giving up with an exasperated groan.
“As long as he’s been possessed, there may be no saving him. This could kill the man inside if he isn't dead already, and I need you to be prepared for that.” Bobby says sternly, pulling a journal from his suitcase while he speaks.
“Father Bobby…kill him? There’s an innocent man trapped in there!” Cas practically squeaks in protest.
“The important thing is that the demon gets sent back to Hell where it belongs. If Dean dies, it’s a tragedy, yes. But it’s a possible sacrifice that must be made. If he should pass, he will be rewarded in Heaven within the arms of the Lord.”
As if that was supposed to be any comfort…Cas felt a pang of nausea sock him in the gut.
"Oh don't worry Father Twink-boy," Dean addresses Cas with a taunting smile. "Dean is alive and well. If he's being honest, he doesn't want to be 'fixed' of his demons just yet. He's enjoying th-"
Bobby shuts him up with more Holy water in the face before turning to flip through his journal, opening it up to the prayer of Michael, the archangel. “Once we start reading, Father Novak, we cannot stop. No matter what happens we cannot stop the exorcism. It’s gonna get hairy when we begin the actual expulsion part of the book, and should something happen to me, you must pick up where I left off. Do you understand?”
“What do you mean if something happens to you?” Cas glances to the demon, his gaze makes Cas feel filthy.
“Just promise me you won’t stop.” Bobby pleads, resting a firm hand on Cas’ shoulder.
Cas rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I understand.”
Bobby smiles, his eyes too hold a hint of fear. “Good boy.” Bobby turns to the demon, standing tall as he scans the journal in his hands.
Dean smirks again, eyes still black as his eyes track Bobby from where he sits as the priest slowly moves across the room.
“Aw, gonna read me a bed time story?” He jests, his tone sarcastic.
Bobby snorts. “Something like that.”
“In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Both Bobby and Cas sign the crucifix across their chests, Cas clutches his rosary and whispers the prayer as Bobby’s voice booms over his, echoing off of the enclosed walls around them.
“Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in our battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places. Come to the assistance of men whom God has created to His likeness and whom He has redeemed at a great price from the tyranny of the devil.”
Dean shakes his head and laughs in his sadistic tone once more, making Cas shiver in response. Yet his prayers don’t stop. He is determined to save the righteous man that the demon has enslaved, determined to prove himself worthy in his new position under God.
“The Holy Church venerates you as her guardian and protector; to you, the Lord has entrusted the souls of the redeemed to be led into heaven. Pray therefore the God of Peace to crush Satan beneath our feet, that he may no longer retain men captive and do injury to the Church. Offer our prayers to the Most High, that without delay they may draw His mercy down upon us; take hold of "the dragon, the old serpent, which is the devil and Satan," bind him and cast him into the bottomless pit that he may no longer seduce the nations."
Dean writhes against his restraints, trying to muster the strength to bust free, but to no avail. He groans in frustration, turning with hatred towards the priests as they finally begin the verse of the exorcism.
Bobby reads this part alone, Cas stands just off from his shoulder as a pillar of strength and support.
“Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos, Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia.”
Dean’s eyes revert to human, they’re opened wide in the realization of what is being read. He struggles in the chair again, desperate for freedom. He has to pause in his struggle to wince in pain, a tearing sensation falls on his innards from the priest’s words.
“caeli Deus, Deus terrae, Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate, Laqueo, and deceptione nequitia, Omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates.”
Eyes shut tightly, Dean screams. It sounds as though there’s two voices trapped inside his abused vessel - one is that of a pained man, the other, an angry monster. Cas shifts closer to Bobby as he watches the lights flicker in response to the demonic cries of anguish.
“Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio, Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,”
Bobby pauses as the room begins to shake, books fall off shelves, dust rises into the air, and the hanging lights above sway and distort the room. Bobby reaches an arm back, grasping onto Cas to steady himself against the floors rattling motions.
“Omnis and congregatio secta diabolica.”
Windows shatter, and some of the light bulbs blow out. Both priests cover their faces and eyes from the sharp debris that fall to the floor around them while the demon screams and snarls like a caged wolf. Bobby raises his voice so it can be heard over the surrounding chaos.
“Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, dominates, Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias,”
“Bobby!” Cas sees something that makes his heart stop within his chest. A hearty table comes sliding across the room at an alarming pace, slamming into Bobby like a freight train and pinning him to the wall, much like a fly in a glue trap.
And then the lights go out as the last few bulbs burst. Darkness ensues, and silence falls.
Cas coughs as dust settles in the air around him, he can hardly see while he makes his way over to his friend. He grasps Bobby’s face in his hands, gently trying to wake him. There’s blood, he can’t tell where from but there is definitely blood. And he was also unconscious, the back of his head had slammed into the wall, but a quick check of his pulse confirms that he was, thankfully, alive.
“Didn't like him much, he wasn’t up for any kind of fun.” Dean says smugly.
Goosebumps race across Castiel’s skin like wildfire in response.
“But you- Castiel isn't it? You seem like a fun play thing."
“How do you know my name?” Cas turns quickly, but all he sees ahead of him is darkness which is pointless.
He slowly backs up, jumping as his backside falls against a solid mass, and a hot breath drifts across the skin of his neck from behind.
“Baby, I know everything about you.” Dean claims in a hushed tone, just inches from the priest’s ear.
Cas staggers away, tripping on something on the floor. What it was, he couldn’t tell. The demon has broken free, how he had managed that, Cas wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter much now, because he was going to die like this.
The demon’s voice echoes through the dark, if he’d step just a little closer, Cas may be able to see him through the pale moonlight that still lingers in through the single window. But the creature stalks him from the edges of the room, gliding gracefully through the shadows like a predator.
"See, you think you belong here, but deep down you know you don't. Not truly. You crave the dark, the hunger."
Cas feels around the ground next to Bobby, fingers desperately fishing to something…and then he feels soft, worn leather beneath his touch. The journal. Grasping it as quickly as he can, he reopens to the page and starts reading where Bobby had left off. His tone is fragile and shaky.
"Te rogamus, audi nos! Ut inimicos sanctae circulae humiliare digneris, Te rogamus, audi nos! Terribilis Deus Sanctuario suo-"
The book is ripped from his grasp easily by invisible force, and a rough hand comes in quickly, clasping around the young priest's throat. The demon hauls Cas to his feet within his grasp, the strength unimaginable as he lifts him just high enough that Cas' feet clear the ground. Castiel struggles against the demon’s iron grip, fingernails clawing into the monster’s cool skin.
“You humans…so fragile, so pliable. I could snap your neck with a flick of the wrist, end your miserable life in a fraction of a second.”
The edges of Castiel’s vision begin to blur, the pressure that builds and builds in his face makes him feel like his head is going to explode at any given moment. And then he’s dropped like a ton of bricks, body limp like that of a cooked pasta noodle, folding to the ground in a clumsy mound as the demon steps away carelessly.
“But I don’t see much fun in that.” He says nonchalantly, walking towards the locked doors.
Castiel’s eyes track along with him as he slinks across the room, his own body still heaving on the hard floor to regain lost oxygen. Dean pauses in front of the door, lifts a leg high and kicks hard. The frame blisters outward in slivers, a resounding crack as the wood breaks makes the young priest flinch, eyes darting to where the journal landed across from him as the remaining shambles of door fall to the ground in a fractured mess.
Dean briefly turns to look at the priest from over his shoulder. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay put til' dawn." And then he steps out of the room, leaving Cas alone in the darkness.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me? -Psalm 56:3-4
Dean thinks he’s home free, strolling down the aisle between pews like he owns the whole building. Every atom of his being is screaming at him that his kind doesn’t belong here, to leave. And boy, if he wasn’t listening. Yet still, a mewling, grating voice stops him dead in his tracks once more, his vision blurring in anger as his eyes flicker to black.
“Cernunnos ipse truderit virtutem plebi Suae, Aradia ipse fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus Deus, Gloria Patri, Benedictus Dea- !”
Cas’ eyes widen as the demon approaches him at an alarming rate. Just two more words…two more words and the exorcism was complete. Two more words to triumph. Two more words to salvation. Two more damn words for self forgiveness. But he freezes, the blood in his veins stills, frozen solid in fear.
Forgive me, Father.
Dean rips the journal from the priest’s grasp, takes Cas by the shoulder and throws his body into the proud, and brilliant altar. There’s a deep crunch, and Cas wasn’t sure if it was the marble breaking, or his own body. Either way…ouch. His vision blurs again, a flowing heat runs down his face and settles in the crease of his lips as he winces, a small whimper escapes his lips. Blood. Irony tasting, thick blood.
Dean bends slowly, picking the journal up from the ground, looking at it in disgust. “What a pain the ass you have been, Father.” He uses the title as a form of mockery, and it makes Cas’ insides twist. “You carry the name ‘Father’ as if that will fix you, change what you are inside, thinking it will mask your desire.”
Dean holds the corner of the journal into the wavering flame of a half burnt candle, watching in awe as the flames eat away at the pages at an agonizingly slow rate. He holds it in in one hand as he approaches Castiel, where he still lays in a heap on the ground, tear tracks staining his face as he struggles to sit up in the debris.
“Tell me, do you think your Lord hasn’t seen you? Seen what you’ve done? Hah- rather, who you’ve done.”
Dean opens the journal, the added oxygen allows the open pages to fully engulf in flames, their bright hues dance and highlight the contours of Dean’s face from below. His eyes falter back to a brilliant emerald green, a shade of enchanted green that pulls Cas into a trance. Something in his chest lurches at the visual, something he has fought so hard to shove down. Still, he says nothing to the demon. This seems to leave Dean unsatisfied, he wasn’t pushing the right buttons just yet.
“Do you think God saw you, watching your neighbor - what was his name…ah, Kevin. Do you think he saw you watching Kevin through his window, staying to see him strip down to take a shower? Watching him bare skinned, like the little pervert you are?”
Castiel’s face changes, it holds true fear and true shame now. How could the demon know? How could anyone?
“Do you think the Lord liked the way you touched your own cock as you watched your best friend screw his girl in the woods? That may be understandable if you were watching for the girl but ya know…that wasn’t the case. You were watching him pump inside her and picturing yourself in her place because you liked him so fucking much.” Dean has thrown the flaming book to the side carelessly, steadily squatting down before Cas and roughly grabbing him by the jaw, forcing this pathetic being to look at him through his tears.
“Stop, I-I sought out penance…received a-a-absolution!” Cas whimpers, weakly trying to pry Dean’s fingers from digging into his skin.
"And that makes it all go away, doesn't it? It makes that time you allowed your music teacher to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless totally null and void…sorry, my bad." Dean throws Cas' face to the side in disappointment, licking the priest's blood from his finger tips. Cas chokes out another sob in response.
Dean slouches off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor as he turns back to the priest. He grabs him roughly, pulling him from the debris that used to be an altar, and Cas tries to back away from him like a wounded animal.
"Please," Cas begs. He covers his face with trembling hands. Dean has crawled over him, large and looming. "Have mercy."
Dean laughs darkly, pulling his knees forward as he sits straddled across the priest's pelvis, his hands resting into the floor on either side of Castiel’s shoulders.
"Oh yeah, angel. So pretty when you beg." Dean reaches a hand up, softly tucking some stray, damp hairs behind the young priest's ear. A surprisingly tender gesture for a creature such as himself.
Castiel’s tears seem to cease as the demon touches him this way. His stark, blue eyes follow the blood stained fingertips as they travel down to his jaw, resting there as he forces Cas to tip his head back. Dean closes most of the distance between them with his lips, the tender and vulnerable skin of Cas' neck is just millimeters away. He is so close, that the tip of Dean’s nose tickles the small and near invisible hairs that cover his skin. It makes him shiver, and this lights Dean up like a Christmas tree full of desire.
"All this time, this is what you truly craved though, isn't it? Just another sad little closet case, trying to hide from who you really are." Dean presses his mouth into Cas' skin, gentle kisses and soft nips make the priest squirm and whimper uncomfortably. Dean shifts his face up so that his lips brush Castiel’s ear. "Why would you deny yourself such pleasures? Such indulgence?"
Cas whines as the demon drags his hot, wet tongue along the conch of his bloody ear, allowing his lips to come back down a bit to suck at his lobe.
Castiel finally musters up the courage to speak. "No. No you will not defile me in the house of the Lord!"
Dean snickers, sitting back into Castiel’s lap, his weight still holding him in place as the priest tries to squirm out from underneath. "Really now? You know, this pretty lil' thing in your pants seems to disagree."
Dean quickly reaches down and between his own legs, using his hand to grind against the priest's thick erection through his trousers. Cas is shocked at the overly forward gesture, and he tosses his head back into the floor, struggling to stifle a moan. It comes out as more of a short, pained grunt.
Dean leans back down and eats away at Castiel’s neck again, sucking dark purple hickeys into his divine skin while he writhes and trembles beneath the demon that traps him here. Dean's free hand yanks Cas' priestly collar free, tossing it away along with the man's pride, and his fingers fumble needily at Cas' shirt buttons. He begins grinding his hips down against the young priest's crotch tent, and conflicted moans break through the man’s tightened lips.
There's a sense of panic inside the priest. He should be stronger than this, both in strength and in faith. Yet here he lies, a pinned and framed butterfly to be displayed and pitied. He isn't fighting back, and that's the worst part. He allows this demon to touch him in ways that he had only dreamt of having other men do in his fantasies. His greatest sin - homosexuality.
The demon was right, he had slept with his teacher the one time - a hasty, teenage decision made in horny angst and clouded judgment. He had feared that he was gay for years, never able to pry his eyes away from even an inch of bare torso skin if the opportunity ever arose to see such a thing. Always falling for his best friends, and watching school wrestling matches with a sweatshirt balled up in his lap to hide his hard on. Look where it has all gotten him.
Now here he lies, being devoured in body and soul by a demon. God was punishing him for his sins.
Cas had disassociated for a few minutes it seems like. He shifts his gaze downward, and sees his shirt is fully undone, flayed out to the sides as his chest rises and falls in shallow breaths. Dean was working his way down his torso in open mouth kisses, fingers working away at undoing Cas' pants. The demon must feel eyes on him, because he glances up at the priest with a devilish smirk through plush eyelashes.
"Welcome back, Father. Just in time for the show."
“Stop.” Cas says firmly again, weakly trying to push Dean’s hands off of his belt buckle.
“No.” Dean replies in a dull tone, flicking Cas’ hands away nonchalantly.
The rip of his pants zipper being yanked down makes the priest gasp, finally sitting up on his elbows with a suddenly very clear, not-foggy mind. Dean gracefully slides down the man’s legs, his own body resting a couple steps down the altar to give himself a more comfortable position to carry out the planned task. He hooks his fingers in the waistline of Castiel’s pants, tugging at the tight fabric roughly to wriggle them off his body. In another feeble attempt at escape, Cas frees a foot from his trousers and hooks it into Dean’s shoulder, using all of his strength while the demon is still in surprise to push him off. Dean tumbles down the steps, and Cas takes no time to haul himself to his feet and run. He doesn't stop to pull up his boxers, but rather pulls them up while he escapes, his open shirt flapping behind him like a rooster tail in his haste. He’s almost to the exit doors when a strong arm captures him around the waist, taking the air out of his lungs from the force. Cas flails and kicks, arms punching and elbowing against the solid force that is the demon. Dean struggles a bit, but manages to get the priest in one of the pews, bending him over the back of one and resting him into the seat by the knees. Dean uses one of his own knees to spread the man’s legs into a wider, more vulnerable stance.
“Fucking feisty thing aren’t ya, angel? I gotta say, I thought you’d give a little more easily, but you’re just full of surprises.” Dean speaks in a deep and husky tone that makes Cas’ heart do an aroused flip in his chest. His mouth is pressed firmly into Cas’ ear, chin hooked over his shoulder from behind as he uses a hand to clumsily push the priest’s boxers down, fully exposing him.
Cas tries to plead for mercy again, but Dean clasps a hand across his mouth from behind, silencing him. “Stop denying yourself of me, Cas. Fuck this Holy get up you're trying so hard to pretend to be, and just allow yourself to finally feel what you’ve been craving for so long.” Dean bites down with some force into the meat of Cas’ shoulder through his shirt, making Cas cry out, the panicky tone is muffled into Dean’s palm. Dean pushes his own hips forward, pinning the priest into the backrest of the pew so that he can have both of his wandering hands free. Cas, now with a free mouth begins to mutter some sort of ‘our God who art in Heaven’ bullshit under his breath in soft whimpers, and Dean rolls his eyes while he works the man’s shirt off of his limp arms and shoulders, exposing the bare scape of his back.
Dean is a demon. He has demon emotions, or rather lack thereof most of what would be considered 'human' emotions. He shouldn't care about what he sees, but he feels a pang in his chest when his eyes wander the gnarled skin that lays in wavy and angled patterns across Castiel’s shoulders in the form of scars.
Self Flagellation.
The room seems to fall silent, even Castiel’s prayers have stopped as the demon's eyes trace over his mangled skin. Cas shivers when he feels rough fingers glide softly over roughly formed bumps and old tears from the flogger.
Dean finally speaks, his tone gentle yet accusing. "You people…how you allow yourselves to be led so blindly by an absent God, I will never understand. You were gifted free will and this is how you've chosen to forsake yourself."
"I've tried so hard," Cas finds himself speaking aloud. He is not really sure why he finds himself confessing to a demon of all things, as silent tears stream down his cheeks. "-to repent, to change according to the ways of the church…to seek out the Lord for guidance but…there's just this, need inside me I can't-"
Cas gasps, unable to speak when he feels a firm grasp on his erect member from behind, the demon slowly beginning to stroke him off.
Dean softly hushes him. "Allow yourself to indulge, angel. Don't fight it anymore."
Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. -Matthew 26:41
Cas reluctantly abandons his resolve, tired of fighting. This demon was taking him, and somehow that was okay in this moment. His strokes are calculated and firm, pace consistent as Dean lays soft kisses across his scars from behind. He's erect too, matching the pace of his strokes as he grinds his clothed cock into the priest's bare ass, the fabric of his pants leaving rug burn across Cas' cheeks. Dean then wraps an arm around Castiel’s lower abdomen, his thumb brushing through his fuzzy happy trail just below his navel. Being touched in this area somehow feels more intimate than getting stroked off, and Cas can't deny that he is beginning to enjoy himself.
"Your heart is racing." Dean states deadpan.
Cas furrows his brows, trying to form words through puffy breaths. "I'm sorry, but you're a little intimidating- hah!" Dean's thumb rubs firmly across the man’s sensitive cock head on the up-stroke, taking Cas by surprise.
Dean laughs to himself. "Me? Intimidating?" Dean cautiously steps away from the priest, leaving the aroused man completely bare of his touch. He leans against the pew behind him and waits, eyes taking in the nude human physique like a patron in an art gallery.
The absence of the demon's hands goes on for an uncomfortable minute too long, and Cas curiously turns to look back over his shoulder, gently pushing himself off the back of the pew that he kneels on. He grimaces slightly, the underside of his ribs ache from being bent over the unforgiving wood for too long.
"Why did you stop?" Cas questions coyly, turning to face Dean, clutching his boxers in a wad over his crotch for modesty. His face is flush from humiliation.
Dean shrugs, unbothered. Almost as if he's playing innocent. "Did you not want me to stop? A few minutes ago, that's all you kept asking me to do, was to stop." Dean takes a step towards him, their bodies inches apart as his languid tongue darts across his lips, wetting them down from the dry air.
Cas shifts uncomfortably in the balls of his feet, toes curling in his socks. He can't look Dean in the eye.
"Get on your knees."
Castiel’s eyes darted up to meet Dean’s in shock. They're black again, and act as a mirror for Cas to see just how small and pathetic he must appear to this ungodly creature. Dean head is back-lit by an orb of light, the moon peeking in from the vast skylight above their heads. It's ironic, it almost resembles a Holy Halo.
A demon with a halo. Somehow, this was fitting.
When Castiel doesn't comply directly, Dean adds to his demand with mockery. "C'mon, not like you aren't used to getting bruised knees from pleasing a powerful man."
The priest scowls. "Don't compare prayer to blow jobs, please." Cas then stifles a small laugh, a smile breaking through his lips.
Finally.
Dean moves like lightning, gripping Cas by the back of his neck and crashing their lips together in an aggressive kiss. Their teeth grind as they devour each other, they can taste the coppery blood that seeps between their lips. Gasping breaths pass back and forth between their gaping mouths, as their tongues move and glide across one another in fluid and twirling motions. It was messy, hungry, pure unbridled lust and Dean was HERE for it all.
"Knees…" Dean gasps out in haste.
Cas breaks the kiss at the command, a string of saliva stretching between their mouths and snapping away somewhere in the middle. He drops to his knees, and they grind into the wood floor and make his skin ache under his own weight, but that didn't seem to matter much in comparison to what lies ahead.
Fingers work desperately at the demon's pants, his anxious nerves make him feel like he doesn't know how to unbutton and unzip pants…as if he didn't put them on everyday. It was stupid, he scolds himself for a moment, and then - ah ha! Triumphantly, he drops the zipper, pulling Dean's pants and underwear down as the demon simultaneously whips his blood dampened shirt off, tossing it away and kicking his pants back with a flick of the ankle when they drop past his knees.
Dean is taken by surprise when a mouth engulfs his hardened cock with zero foreplay of any kind. He laughs loudly in amusement, burying his fingers deep into Castiel's thick and dark locks.
"Ah! Fuck, angel. You're so dick deprived, you just couldn't wait to swallow me down huh?"
Dean tastes damn good, Cas decides. He hums in contentment, the throaty vibrations from the sound make the demon tip his head back past his shoulders, his Adam's apple bounces in his throat alongside guttural moans.
"Jesus Christ- oops my bad." Dean mocks sarcastically, winking at a Jesus portrait on the wall to his right.
Dean looks back down at the priest who worships him. Cas swallows him down to the base, his nose grazing soft pubic hair each and every time he bobs forward. Dean rocks his hips into Castiel’s mouth ever so slightly each time to make his cock head bounce off the back of the man’s throat, watching in awe as he sees the skin bulge out beneath his jaw from Dean’s size. Cas finally gags, Dean’s dick hit him at a weird angle and he wasn't prepared. It doesn't stop him, but he can tell the sound amused the demon.
Cas dares to be brave, reaching up and running his cold palms across the skin of Dean’s muscled thighs while he continues to suck him down. Dean shivers under his touch, giving the priest an odd feeling of power as a result. Dean has had enough, gripping Castiel’s hair with both fists and pulling his mouth from his cock, leaving the man gasping for air. Dean couldn't care less about the sloppiness of his face, and dips to kiss him deeply, savoring the way he tastes within the human's mouth.
"Now beg for it." Dean orders, teeth grazing Cas' jawbone as he encourages the priest to lay back into the floor while he crawls atop.
"P-please. Please." Cas whimpers, leaving desperate and needy kisses on Dean's lips and corner of his mouth.
The demon returns none of them, he isn't satisfied with the level of begging he's received.
Dean tsks at him. "No, no, no. Please what, Father? I need to hear you say it."
"I - uh, please. Do it, I need it please." Cas tries again, laid down into the ground and wriggling uncomfortably, like a bug under a magnifying glass and sunlight.
"Cas. Say it." Dean looms over him, stroking his own cock, it is still soaked from Castiel’s mouth and makes muffled squelched sounds within the demon’s closed first with each pump. "Tell me you want me to fuck you, that you want to be filled with my cock. I bet that word would look so pretty coming from your mouth."
Dean's filthy request makes heat surge through the man’s body, and it's all he can do to not jerk himself to climax. But he needs Dean, wants him more than anything he's ever wanted in his life.
He wanted Dean’s sex more than he wanted divine forgiveness.
"Fuck me please! I need your cock inside me!" Cas whines finally, his eyes bright and doe-like.
Dean smirks devilishly, eyes flickering to black. "Good boy, angel."
Cas opens his legs eagerly, sitting up on his elbows while Dean settles between them comfortably. He returns the approach on no foreplay, getting straight to the point and pressing his dick to the human's pleading hole, adding steady forward pressure. He penetrates agonizingly slow, and Cas feels every hot, burning, aching inch that sinks into him, his body breaking out into a sweat under the strain. It feels like his length is never ending, and Cas isn't sure he can physically handle anymore when he finally feels their skin touch. His body trembles, pain radiates around where their bodies are now connected.
"Fuck…" Dean whispers, almost weakly. "So fucking tight for me, angel."
Cas fights off tears, eyes glassy as he turns his face away in embarrassment. Dean places a kiss on his cheek, urging Cas took look at him inside of hiding. Cas melts instantly, Dean has switched back to his beautiful green hue just for Cas, just to soothe him.
"They're so beautiful." He whispers in a quivering tone, reaching up and cradling the demon's face into his palm and stroking with his thumb.
"You're beautiful." Dean says in return.
Cas pulls him down, initiating the kiss and lazily wrapping his arms around the back of Dean’s neck to hold him close.
Dean tests the waters, mouth still moving against the priest's as he pulls his hips back a bit, before rocking them back into Cas. There's no protest to the action, so he gives the man another thrust, and then another, gradually falling into a slow rhythm.
Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. -Colossians 3:5
Dean sits up off of Cas, grasping him by the hips as he watches the man below him rock into the floor, drunken in lust as he mewls and cries out in pleasure. Cas can't recall when the pain from Dean fucking into him fell away to pleasure, but it seemed far away now as he marvels at the way the demon's thick length rubs along his prostate like a sniper, hitting it damn perfect each and every time he sinks into him. A tension begins to build just below his navel, much like a water balloon, quickly filling with water until it just can't take it anymore-
And it pops.
Castiel’s body contracts, his climax taking him by surprise as his back arches up from the floor, a deep moan pushing it's way up through his sternum. Dean doesn't stop fucking him, rather he goes faster, his eyes unmoving as he watches the priest's cum shoot across his own stomach. Castiel lays there shameless in his own mess, body bouncing with each forward snap of the demon's thrusts.
It was hot, Cas was made to take Dean’s cock.
Dean pulls out, not wasting a single moment before flipping Cas over, using his hip bones to hike the man's ass up in the air. He shoves his length in again, laying directly into a speedy rhythm, their skin cracking together with each time their bodies connect. He uses his grip on the priest's hips to pull him back down onto his cock, adding to the force as he strives to reach deeper inside of the man if he can. The sensation is almost too much for Cas, his nerves still sensitive from his last orgasm, yet Dean still doesn't stop his punishing pace. He uses Cas like a sex toy, focused on his own pleasure at this point, deep and almost animalistic growls echoing in Castiel’s ears as they emerge from within Dean. The sound sent goosebumps across his skin in a mix of fear and arousal.
Cas whines when he feels his dick harden again, reaching down while Dean pounds into him relentlessly to stroke himself. Dean's thrusts begin to falter, he leans down across Castiel’s back to rest his sweaty forehead between his shoulder blades as he cums deep inside the priest, groaning into his skin triumphantly.
He pulls out, watching as his seed drips from the man’s raw and brightly colored hole. It runs down the insides of his thighs like syrup, thick and slow. Dean sits back on his ankles, heaving for breath with his eyes shut. Cas turns to face him, crawling up and taking advantage of the demon's closed eyes to kiss him again, and Dean hums in approval, resting his hands on the human's waist just below the ribs.
"Let me ride you." Cas pleads, his tone holds a sickening innocence that drives Dean wild.
"Look at you, a changed man. Have I tainted you, darlin'?" He teases, stealing another sensual kiss.
Cas ignores his jokes, pushing Dean back now as he climbs into his lap, taking straight away to grinding down on Dean’s semi hardened cock. Dean won't lay down fully, not just yet anyways. In this position, Cas is slightly taller, and Dean's face is level with his chest and clavicle area. So this is where the demon attacks while the priest clumsily grinds into him, rubbing his dick into Dean’s lower stomach for added friction. Dean bites a nipple, making Cas squeal nice and pretty, only to shudder immediately when Dean sucks it in the aftermath like his life depended on it. He shifts and repeats this action on the other nipple, while Cas struggles to reach behind his ass to line the demon's dick up to his hole.
Finally it settles in just right, and he sinks his body down onto it, both of the men groan out in relief at the sensation. Dean rests the side of his sweaty face into the priest's chest, his heart beats loud and strong in his ear while Cas takes straight into bouncing his hips down into Dean’s lap.
"It's so good…so fucking good." Cas babbles senselessly into Dean’s shoulder, turning to tuck his face down and into the crook of the demon's neck.
"Damn right it's good. You were made to fuck pretty like this, angel. Such a good little fucking whore for me, baby. Look at you." Dean praises breathily, leaning back into the floor on his elbows with an adoring, toothy grin on his lips while he looks up at the priest.
Cas pulls Dean back into sitting up, his fingers gripping desperately at the curves of Dean’s back for leverage, leaving crescent shaped welts and long scrapes behind on his skin. He feels so fucking full, every touch and every pass of the cock inside him lights his body up. It's overwhelming, his nerves are screaming at him that he is close to completion.
"Christ I'm gonna cum again, Cas." Dean whimpers, eyes closed tightly as he presses into Cas' chest again, as if it will help him out.
Cas ignores the warning, but soon feels the demon's warm heat fill him once more as it blossoms out within his walls. And then he's cumming, his seed shoots up between their stomachs and plasters it in a sticky, abstract masterpiece.
Dean lays flat on his back into the floor, the boards under him creak as he pulls the priest down atop of him, his body sprawled out across his chest. They just lay there, Dean mindlessly petting fingers through Castiel’s wet, semi bloody hair as the human allows his eyes to flutter shut in exhaustion. Both are sweaty, trembling messes, but somehow filled with a deep sense of solace in one another.
Two different worlds that melded so perfect and beautifully, it was poetic, really.
"Come with me, Cas." Dean finally says.
Cas lifts his head from Dean’s chest to look at him, his expression puzzled. "What?"
"Come with me. Leave this shitty town behind you, run away with me. Live your truth." Dean's eyes hold the hope of a child, brows downturned in a sappy puppy-dog look.
"But…what about your brother?" Cas questions. Besides Bobby, he wouldn't be leaving anything behind. He didn't belong here, and the idea was tempting.
"He will move on." Dean says simply. "He will finally have a normal, apple pie life without me in it. You and I? We can start anew. Live a life free of judgment and the restrictions of religion." Dean brushes the back of his hand along Castiel’s face. He's pleading.
There's absolutely no rational thoughts that run through Castiel’s mind as he settles on his answer. Not even one.
"Okay." He replies, finally feeling secure in a decision for the first time in his life.
Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart. - Psalm 119:111