Dean walked into the church, curious as to why Castiel had asked to meet him here, after Dean had called him enquiring as to his lover's whereabouts. He turned, flinched as he saw a brief flash of ratcheting light strobing through the darkened interior, lighting up the apse at the far end of the aisle, lightening hitting the walls, the ceiling as a massive wingspread flickered to fill the space far beyond. Dean covered his eyes quickly with his forearm, squinting despite the shade against the bright light still flickering just outside of his vision.
"Cas!" he yelled over the flickering light, the noise, smelling the fresh scent of ozone hitting his nostrils and the back of his throat to make him gag. "Castiel!"
He heard a voice, far beyond the true range of his hearing, talking in a language Dean could not understand, rapid fire words bouncing from the roof to hit the floor like scattered dreams, threatening to shatter the stained glass windows looming far overhead and to each side. Finally, the voice stopped, the lightening flickered out in the blink of an eye and Dean was left to stand alone in the aisle of a seemingly empty church.
He dropped his arm slowly, flinching back from an unseen and imagined adversary, relaxed slightly when no retribution from above came. He cast a glance around his body, hands patting his clothes to make sure his parts were still intact and there, before he looked to Castiel standing in the aisle. The angel looked worn, tired, strangely cold and weary, as he sat down on one of the pews, head bowed as though in prayer.
The darkness surrounded the hunter and the angel like a shroud, enveloping them both in musty silence, dust motes drifting through the air and catching in the sunlight drifting through the bars of light lancing through the stained glass windows, turning the motes myriad colors of the rainbow. Dean walked down the aisle, not bothering to mask his approach in the otherwise silent church, knew that Castiel would hear him even over the largest crowd.
He sat quietly beside the angel, knees touching together in a comforting, easy gesture as the angel turned translucent blue eyes up to meet Dean's, lips puckered into a thoughtful pout, hands clasped over his knees, head bowed slightly as though still in prayer or deep thought.
"What the hell was all that about?" Dean murmured, as he gestured towards the apse, where he could see a form laying on the ground, obviously male, and a priest judging by his clothing.
The priest was not moving and Dean could tell, even from this great distance that the man's eyes were gone, frazzled away by Castiel's true form in much the same way that Pamela Barnes' eyes had gone.
"He wanted to see my true form and he paid for the digression," Castiel murmured, looking strangely serene and expressionless for someone who'd just burnt the eyes from a priest's head.
"He knew you were an angel?" Dean questioned, surprised, glance flickering back to the priest once more.
"Of course. He is a priest. He knows things others do not. I thought he was worthy of my true form. I was wrong," Castiel said, showing emotion for the first time, looking truly sorry for what he had done.
Dean sighed, lips quirked into a long suffering frown at his lover, before glancing up to look at the stained glass window shining angel designs down upon them, soft feathered wings overlaying Castiel's head and lending him a soft, fuzzy, borrowed halo around his dark hair.
He looked fragile in that light, careworn, tired, yet so strong, otherworldly, ethereal, beautiful, he made Dean's heart stutter into breathless love for a brief instant as he stared upon his angel. In that one instant, the hunter was reminded once again that Castiel was unlike him, wasn't human and therefore not of the Earth, like Dean was, like his own vessel was.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Dean told Castiel, gesturing first to the priest then to Castiel himself. "Pamela was fine without her eyes - "
He fell silent, remembering that in the end, Pamela hadn't been fine; she'd died a hero's death and because of Dean, his brother Sam. He sighed, gaining a little insight as to what Castiel must be feeling now but on a less grand, celestial scale.
"I'll call an ambulance," Dean murmured, pulling his phone from his pocket and punching in the appropriate set of numbers.
Castiel watched him closely, listened while Dean finished the call, nodded his gratitude to the hunter for his help. Dean shrugged it off with a smile, glad that he could help just a little. They remained silent, content in each other's company, Dean still thinking that he was not in the presence of a human. He thought it strange that sometimes he forgot that in the midst of daily life with the angel, yet he felt oddly comforted that he was there at all, despite his obvious power and everything that he could do with that power.
Dean felt grateful that this perfect being would grace him with his love, his presence, his attention, without asking for a thing in return, except an equal measure of love and respect which Dean duly, willingly gave. Dean smiled, nudged the angel's knee with his own affectionately, before turning his gaze to the crucifix suspended on the far wall.
Castiel remained silent, still watching him, as though waiting for Dean to absolve him of something that only Castiel could absolve himself of. Dean didn't know what Castiel really wanted of him, really expected him to do or to say, instead was content to remain in Castiel's presence wordless in companionable silence. Dean felt the angel's hand snake into his own, fingers grasping Dean's palm and closing tight around his fingers. The hunter squeezed Castiel's fingers gently, and turned to face him once more.
"Why are you here, Cas?" the hunter asked, voice pitched low so as not to break the oppressive silence hanging thicker than the dust motes catching the colored light in silent arms.
"I was trying to find safety and peace," Castiel said, voice sounding sad, lost, homesick and Dean's heart broke to hear it.
"I don't think you'll find it here," Dean replied softly, serious overtones to his voice, eyes sad for the angel beside him. "I don't think anyone ever truly does."
"Some must do," Castiel said, turning away, to stare up at the stained glass angel looming over them as though watching over them.
"Maybe so, but I've never known anyone who has, myself. I certainly never have," Dean replied, turning his gaze up to the angel himself, green eyes reflecting back the bright colors until they shone with borrowed light. "That poor bastard up front certainly hasn't."
Castiel looked away, expression set, stony, gaze resting lightly on the stained glass angel peering down at them from the ornate window beside them.
"That's Michael," Castiel observed, changing the subject suddenly with a rapid shift of words, warmth settling through his voice as he stared at the stately angel in the window. "He's more beautiful in real life, though."
"No doubt he is, Cas, no doubt he is," Dean replied, turning away with a shudder, thinking that he was looking at an image of an angel who wanted to possess him.
Silence fell between them once more, comfortable, unaffected, gentle, and Castiel's fingers twitched against Dean's palm as he turned to face the hunter. He mustered up a small smile for Dean's benefit, eyes trained intently upon Dean's as though the angel could see right into Dean's soul. Maybe he could, and Dean surprised himself by not caring if Castiel could. Everything he was and everything he could be was Castiel's by right; he'd earned the right to everything that made Dean what he was, through love, through respect, through patience when it felt like all others had turned their back on Dean.
He smiled, and pressed his lips against Castiel's in a sudden kiss, surprised the angel into a small startled murmur, before the noise settled out into an approving purr. Dean laced the fingers of his free hand through Castiel's dark hair, not caring about the possibility of desecrating a Holy place, justifying his actions with the thought that married couples sealed their vows with kisses many times a day in churches all around the world. He didn't think that sealing their relationship still further was any different to a bride and groom.
Castiel pulled away, smiling, before he said - "I hope I'm not the bride, Dean."
Dean gaped at him for the briefest of instants before he said - "The hell I'm wearing a white dress, Cas."
Castiel chuckled at that, laughter snorting through his nose as he turned away, cheeks flushing in the light and seeming more alive than usual. Dean watched him, thinking that Castiel was so beautiful, perfect and he was his. He claimed his mouth in a kiss once more when Castiel turned his face to his again, soft lips warm against the hunter's own, gentle tongue probing against Dean's lips until the hunter opened up for him, letting him in. Above them, Michael continued shining down upon them, as though giving them continual blessing on their relationship, soft sunlight filtering through his face as he smiled benevolently, spear in hand and pointing down towards them.
Dean ended the kiss, lips parted, swollen, eyes closing as he rested his forehead against Castiel's, a rare moment of weakness as he submitted to the angel beside him, breath mingling as Castiel leant in, tried to claim another kiss with equally swollen lips. Dean pulled away, didn't want to kiss when he knew he wanted something more, didn't know if he wanted to desecrate a church in that way.
Castiel chased his mouth desperately, before he said - "It's alright, Dean, I promise."
Dean moaned, leant back against the hard wooden pew behind him, felt the hard edges dig into his back as Castiel leant in still further, hand caressing the hunter's chest, down his abdomen, slipping beneath his belt and cupping Dean's erection gently. All thoughts fled the hunter's mind at the contact, thoughts wiped clean, veins short circuiting into fizzing sparks of lust as Castiel's lips found, locked onto Dean's exposed neck and began to suckle the skin. The hunter grew dizzy, incoherent, gaze locked with the stained glass icon of Michael still smiling down upon them, breath gasping in his throat as Castiel seemed to consume him, take over everything that he was and owned until there was nothing left but white hot heat.
"Please, Cas, please, no," the hunter murmured, hand still laced in Castiel's hair, rubbing through the soft strands and groaning at the feel of it against his hand, tickling against his neck and cheek. "Please, no."
Castiel pulled away, reluctance clear in every gesture, his very expression, the set of his body as he turned large, shimmering blue eyes onto the hunter still sprawled across the hard wooden pew. His lips were pouting, swollen with heavy kisses, red, dry, yet so kissable, made him look fragile and fuckable and Dean reached for him blindly.
"Please, Cas, somewhere more private, not here," Dean pleaded, angling Castiel's hand back to his hard cock once more.
Castiel nodded slowly, gaze never leaving Dean's face, even as he stood, reached for the hunter once more and pulled him quickly to his feet, bodies bumping together as Dean stumbled unsteadily into the angel's body. Castiel steadied him with one slender hand, lips parted, breath ruffling against Dean's face as his aroused pants broke the air between them. Dean's eyes drifted closed, again surrendered to the angel before him, let him lead him to the side of the church, and pulled the hunter into a confessional booth sheltered in the shadows embracing the wall.
Dean was about to protest, wanted to insist on going anywhere else but the confessional, but was swept away by Castiel's insistent kisses, wet lips pouting hot and heavy against his own. He gave in, pawed Castiel's body beneath his coat, his restricting shirt, needed the angel inside him, to fuck him senseless and he moaned as much into Castiel's open mouth, against the weight of his tongue.
Castiel's hand hastily unzipped Dean's jeans, wrestled the belt free from the sturdy buckle, breathing harsh, panting, aroused in the dark and restrictive booth surrounding them. Dean leant against the far wall, shoulders pressed tight against the grain of the wood, as he felt the angel grapple with his jeans, pulling them away from his hips and letting them fall to the floor to bunch at his ankles. The warm air in the confessional played across the exposed skin of the hunter's thighs, made him shiver despite the warmth, the closeness of the space and he barely registered when Castiel turned him to face the wall behind him.
Castiel quickly eased his zip open, pulled his dark pants down, swiftly followed by his own boxers, hands trembling as he worked, one hand pressed in the middle of his lovers back. He leant in, pressed a kiss against Dean's exposed neck, tongue playing across sweat stained skin, breath blasting across the wet streak left in the wake of his tongue, making Dean shiver in pleasure. Castiel bit and nibbled at the curve of exposed skin where Dean's neck smoothed out into muscular shoulder, teeth harsh against the skin. Dean cried out, notes of pleasure held deep within his voice as Castiel bit harder still, drawing blood this time.
"Please, Cas, please, don't stop," Dean gasped out, embarrassed by the plea in his voice but continuing just the same, until Castiel started biting him once again.
The hunter's eyes closed, lips parted, arousal thick in the air as Castiel marked him with his teeth, claiming him for his own. Dean submitted willingly, allowed Castiel to continue biting him, not caring who saw the marks afterwards. He moaned, voice a long low note in the enclosed space, as Castiel's fingers snaked round his naked hip, wrapped around his erect cock and started to gently stroke his hard length.
Dean felt Castiel's own erection pressed hard against his leg, smearing pre-cum in its wake with every movement they made, marking Dean as Castiel's in a different sense. Dean pleaded with Castiel to fuck him, to ride him hard, fast, to not be gentle. Castiel pulled his hand away from Dean's cock, fumbled in first his own pockets, then Dean's until he found what he was looking for - the lube. Dean waited, gritting his teeth against the impatience coursing through his body as he waited for Castiel to finish smearing the lube over shaking fingers behind him.
The hunter hissed when the cool liquid was smeared against his skin, seeming colder still in the hot air of the confessional, left in cool stripes by questing angelic fingers, smoothing the lube across the tightly bunched muscles surrounding the hunter's hole. Dean spread his legs wider still, turned to shoot a look over his shoulder at his lover, saw Castiel's face tight, impassioned, tongue peeking out from between ripe lips as he slowly eased inside Dean.
Castiel's eyes flickered up at Dean's initial hiss of pain, the tension held deep within Dean's body at the first press of Castiel's finger inside him and the angel waited for the hunter to settle down around him before easing in further still. Dean started to rock back onto Castiel's hand, pleasured gasps falling from his open mouth as the angel stretched him wider, wider, looser still, preparing him for the entrance of his lover.
Dean cried out, Castiel's name thick and heavy in his throat as his lover pressed a second finger inside him, stretching him further still, stroking insistently against his prostate and making shudder after shudder course through Dean's body, aroused moans falling from Dean's mouth in rushing sounds.
Castiel nodded to himself, tip of his tongue still peeking from his lips as he eased his fingers from Dean's hole, knew that Dean was ready to take him. He smoothed lube over his aching erection, before leaning in close to Dean's shaking body, laying a kiss against a bite mark showing livid red in Dean's skin, pressing the tip of his cock against his lover's lube slick hole. He reached down, eased his dick inch by inch into his lover, waited for Dean to settle out around him before sheathing himself fully inside Dean, a sigh easing past plump lips in satisfaction.
He waited, let Dean settle still further around him, relax more fully against the feel of his dick filling him, before he started thrusting lazily into his lover, eyes drifting closed at the feel of Dean tight around him, pleasuring him as his hips started rutting harder against him. Dean cried out, hand clenching into a tight fist in front of his face as Castiel pounded into him and the hunter fucked himself back onto Castiel every time his lover withdrew.
Dean felt pleasurably weak, at the mercy of the powerful being filling him up and moving inside him, pleasuring him, fingers stroking Dean's dick insistently in time with his thrusting cock. Dean leant his head against the side of the confessional, eyes closed against the sweat dripping into his eyes, cries growing louder as an orgasm pulled and coiled deep inside him, washing everything away until there was nothing left but pleasure. He gave in, let his climax claim him in its hot embrace, filled Castiel's hand with the strands of his thick release, come splattering against the woodwork before him.
Castiel heard Dean orgasm loudly, his own name gasped out amidst pleasured gasps, love, need, lust heavy in Dean's tone as his body tightened around Castiel's thrusting dick. The angel's ripe mouth parted, as he leant in closer to his lover's body, pounded into Dean, hand still wrapped around the hunter's softening member.
Grunts of exertion filled the air around them as Dean continued to fuck himself onto Castiel's dick, before he finally felt the angel release into him, filling him up with hot strands of his come, and a wail of Dean's name loud in the air around them. Slowly, their bodies stilled and Castiel eased his softening member from Dean's ass gently. He turned his lover around, pressed a kiss to Dean's responsive mouth, tongues heavy in each other's mouths, as their lips met and parted noisily.
Arousal still hung heavy in the air around them and Dean wanted Castiel again, wanted him to fill him up and pleasure him again, but didn't think they could stay in the confessional much longer. He feared the return of a priest and the paramedics and imminent discovery, and pulled away from the angel reluctantly. Castiel chased his mouth, begged another kiss with purling mewls, received a reluctant shake of Dean's head in return.
"We have to go, Cas," the hunter said, quietly. "I left Sam back in the diner. We were having lunch when you called. The motel room should be empty, for now. We can go there."
Castiel nodded slowly at Dean, gaze never leaving his lover's, eyes transfixed and staring as the hunter pulled his jeans around his sweaty hips once more. Dean felt fucked out, sated, still ready for more, yet still he waited for Castiel to dress himself properly once more. He took Castiel's hand, led him stealthily from the confessional, melting into the shadows in case of intruding eyes.
As they slipped from the impressive doors into the church, through the narthex, out into fresh air once more, paramedics from the ambulance parked haphazardly outside passed them, jostling them on their way past, not even bothering to look at who they'd banged against. Dean waited until they'd disappeared, before he blew out a long sigh of relief into the afternoon air outside.
"I think we're safe, Cas," Dean said, nudging the angel with his shoulder.
"Yes, Dean. Are we going back to the motel room now?" Castiel asked, blue eyes insistent, pleading, promising Dean a world of sexual pleasures with just one glance.
Dean laughed, before he said - "Just can't wait, can you?"
"No, Dean," Castiel replied, failing to see the irony in Dean's question, just like he usually did.
Dean's smile still held, amusement, love held deep within his gaze as he said - "Nah, neither can I, Cas."
He draped an easy arm around the angel's shoulder, pulled him in closer to his own body before pressing a lingering kiss against Castiel's forehead. Castiel's eyes fluttered closed, lashes playing across Dean's cheeks in gentle tickling patterns, soft as butterfly kisses against Dean's skin. He felt fragile in Dean's arms, yet strong at the same time and Dean's heart ached to feel him again, to make love to him, to remain with Castiel forever.
He sighed, kissed Castiel's forehead once again, before leading him to the Impala, to drive back to the motel and continue what they'd started in the church ...
-fini-