AN: Hello! Another multi-chaptered story! This plot has long been in my mind and I couldn't resist anymore. So I decided to write it alongside Puzzles. Yes, I know what this entails, but I solemnly swear that I am up to good...that is I'll update both stories as fast as I can. Don't worry as of the moment, I'm already typing away the fifth chapter of Puzzles so no biggie! I hope you enjoy this one. I will be, that for sure. I'm finally writing something about two topics I love! Business and Politics!

Disclaimer: SPN isn't mine. `nuff said.

Marionette

Chapter 1: Pulling the Strings

The flight to New York wasn't as smooth as he had predicted. There was a slight turbulence in the air that made the plane, as well as his stomach, giddy. He wasn't really afraid of flying; he just had this deep sense of self-preservation. He was a doctor after all.

He tumbled on his way out of the plane, his dizziness tripling when he started walking to the arrival area. He didn't know if it was because he hardly got some sleep last night or it was his anxiety for the turnout of the event eating him. As he neared the arrival area, he pulled out a pair of shades and a cap and put them on. He casually strolled into the area, hoping that no one would notice him. Wishful thinking. He knew the disguise turned out to be futile when he suddenly heard rampant camera clicking and light flashes bombarding his vision. He groaned mentally.

"...ah, Mr. Novak, how do you feel about the—"

"Do you think it will be a success this—"

"Sir, sir, what would you like to say to your fellow—"

He kept walking, pointedly ignoring the paparazzi and hoard of interviewers trying to keep up with his pace. It was a good thing he invested in brisk walking. This occurrence was another reminder that it was indeed a wise decision to buy himself a condo unit in New York rather than crashing in overpaid hotels with a heavy luggage on tow. With him merely holding a briefcase and a small bag for his laptop, it was easy enough to outrun the media.

It wasn't that he was an actor. Far from it, he'd like to believe. He was a doctor; a surgeon. He did his work behind closed doors and would very much like to keep it that way but sadly, as a part of the Novak family, he understood that he couldn't really have the privacy a normal person would have. Sometimes though, just sometimes, he wished people started minding their own business.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw four men waiting for him wearing identical white suits that were very much familiar to him. However, one reporter didn't seem to get the memo and lightly bumped into him. He was pushed forward, but not hard enough for him to fall head first on the floor. A string of apologies fell from the reporter's mouth. Fixing his posture, he turned around and smiled gently at the reporter and told him it was okay. Flashes started to once more cloud his vision. He raised his hand to remove his shades, signaling the media that he was going to talk.

There was an abrupt silence and the flashes died down.

Cerulean eyes were revealed.

"I'm sure everyone is as excited as I am for the Gay Pride March happening later this afternoon here, in the very heart of the city that never sleeps. Our group would like this to be an event everyone, whatever sexuality, will enjoy, regardless if it will be successful or not. So to my fellow gay men and women, put your left foot forward and join us as we show off our pride. Our identity. Our sexuality." He said all of this with a serene smile on his face. For a moment there was a hush as the reporters and interviewers tried to hang on to every word that he said.

After the brief answer, he placed his shades back, gave a curt nod, turned his back once more on the media and walked towards the four men. As he reached them, one took his brief case, and the other took the small bag the contained his laptop. He was led to a secluded area at the back of the airport where a white Ferrari 360 was waiting for him.

He languidly walked towards it and slipped into the back seat when the right car door was opened for him. He sat beside a gray-eyed man with dirty blond hair who gave him a small smile.

"Castiel. How was your flight?"

Said man stared ahead as the engine started. "It was… unpleasant."

"That is most displeasing." The other man nodded sympathetically.

"Thank you for finding time to fetch me from the airport, Michael."

"It's the least I could do. Will you be staying?" Michael asked, his eyes scanning the smart phone he was clutching with his right hand.

Castiel paused for a moment, and then shook his head. "I plan on flying back tomorrow."

"Stay." It wasn't the tone of someone asking a favor. It was definite and firm. Only a deaf person wouldn't be able to distinguish the underlying truth that it was, in fact, an order.

There was silence for a few seconds. And then a nod.

"Okay. I will be cancelling my flight, then."

"That is thoughtful of you to do so." Michael said with no gratefulness in his voice. Castiel merely shrugged in reply.

The engine stopped in front of a luxurious condominium. The driver and the man sitting on the passenger seat stepped out and stood by the car door on Castiel's side.

"I will be seeing you." Michael said, turning to Castiel for a reply. The blue-eyed man nodded.

With that, Michael moved towards him and knocked three times on the car door window. The man nearest to the car door opened it and Castiel stepped out. The second man handed back to him his light luggage. Before he could enter the building however, Michael called for his attention.

"I have read somewhere that learning to say "yes" brings positivity to a person's life."

It was not like Michael to share something like this. Not like him to share something at all. Castiel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he nodded anyway.

"Thank you for your advice." The car door closed and the white Ferrari drove away.

He reached his unit in a span of ten minutes and was pleased to find it just how he left it a month before. This meant that none of his siblings, and he had a specific sibling in mind, tried to temporarily stay in the unit or use it for reasons that Castiel might just want to burn the whole place down if he'd known. He carefully placed his laptop on the desk, along with the brief case. He got his phone from the pocket of his jeans and instantly dialed a number. He sat on the bed as he waited for Balthazar to pick up.

"Cas, darling?" A voice greeted him.

A small smile broke into his face. "Finally here."

"That's fantastic! When did you get there? I should've fetched you!"

"It's fine. Michael took care of that. So how are the preparations?"

"Marvelous. We're almost done here. You go take a rest first, honey."

Castiel found himself nodding even if the other man wouldn't be able to see it. "I see. Are you sure, Balth?"

"Yes, darling. You stayed up late last night for this, and you flew out earlier than expected. So take a rest, you deserve it. Let me handle this."

"Fine. I'll be seeing you later." He ended the call and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the silence. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes, took off his shoes and climbed to bed.

They were heading to Manhattan for the victory party. A lot of press media would be attending, as well as politicians. Even Michael would be there since Hhe was one of the sponsors of the march. The event turned out to be a success, at least, for Castiel. The participants roughly increased by 10% compared to the participants of last year and more importantly, no mishaps happened. Well, if you call a transvestite suddenly coughing out his fake teeth a mishap, then one mishap did happen.

He glanced outside through the window, loving the view of New York's skyline. The blackness of the night complemented the pretty lights of the many skyscrapers greatly. He was currently on the back seat of one of Balthazar's luxury cars.

"You should consider moving here, seeing that you love it here so much." Balthazar suggested, leaning closely to also look at the view. He placed the weight of his chest on Castiel left shoulder and put a hand on the right.

Castiel's eyes drifted to their forms, seeing how they were pressed against each other but decided not to comment about it. "And you should consider how it would look like first, before painting your Audi with the colors of the rainbow."

Balthazar moved away and faked an insulted gasp. "How dare you, Castiel! It represents our colors!"

"No, you just wanted to have an excuse for a rainbow-colored car. Car enthusiasts will kill you for your sacrilege." Castiel shook his head, smiling.

"Oh come on, now, why would I do that, darling? I would never use the group's name in vain! Isn't that like our commandment number one?" Balthazar said defensively, although he himself was smiling.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

Balthazar let out a soft laugh at this and clasped Castiel's shoulder. "I missed you too much, Cassie. It's so good that you're staying."

"How did you know I will be staying?" Castiel eyebrows knit in confusion. He didn't remember telling anyone yet that he would be staying in New York indefinitely—as long Michael needed him.

Balthazar suddenly had a deer in the headlights look but it was gone in the next second. He smiled widely. "You are? That's fabulous! I was just fishing!"

Castiel looked at him suspiciously but decided to let it go. He nodded. "Yes, Michael asked me to stay."

"I see… I'll have to thank him when I see him later, then. God knows how much I want to take a hold of you."

"I fly to New York every month." Castiel pointed out.

"But you don't stay, darling; you always fly back to Kansas by the next morning." Balthazar whined.

"I work there, Balth. A lot of people rely on me back there."

The Brit sighed. "Of course, I understand." He cupped the other man's cheeks and ran his thumb through Castiel's stubble. "Learn to take a rest, okay?"

Castiel merely nodded and then turned away. Balthazar sighed again. After a few more minutes, the car finally halted. Castiel stared at the building, his eyes tracing the name of the establishment. The Salon At Per Se. A doorman opened the car door for him and he stepped out gracefully. Cameras started to flash as he moved aside to allow Balthazar to step out as well. Once the Brit was out blowing kisses to the cameras, Castiel shook his head and moved to his side. They linked their arms together and smiled at the cameras as they entered the restaurant.

The place was beautiful... elegantly designed. It wasn't over designed as he had expected. There was a beautiful balance between elegance and the colorfulness it needed to exude since it was a gay party after all. Castiel inwardly smiled at what he knew was Balthazar's effort. The Brit was the only one capable to pull something like this. And this was confirmed when they walked under a rainbow for an arc. Really, Balthazar and his fascination with rainbows.

"So, darling, what do you think?" Balthazar asked as they were led to their table by a restaurant staff. People were turning their heads to their direction, and even some were raising their wine glasses towards them.

"I'd say job well done, Balth. You really outdid yourself this time."

Balthazar shoved him playfully, his eyes crinkling in laughter. "You really flatter me sometimes, Cassie."

He pulled out a chair for Castiel, which had the man looking at him with a questioning glance. Balthazar merely insisted. Shrugging, Castiel sat down and muttered a soft thank you. Balthazar only beamed at him as he sat down beside him.

Castiel looked around. He saw a great deal of familiar faces that smiled or winked back at him. He even saw the recently out-of-the-closet NBA player Jason Collins sitting not far away. His gazed stopped abruptly when he saw Michael at the other end of the area. Their eyes met and the politician merely nodded at him before a squat local politician took his attention away. Balthazar seemed to be doing the same as him because he suddenly tugged at his elbow.

"Look, Cassie it's the hotshot law—" Before he could look at what the man was pointing at however, a loud booming voice disrupted every conversation inside the venue.

"A flashy evening everyone, Garth Vader is in the house!"

Castiel turned incredulously at Balthazar who only gave him an embarrassed smile. "You let Fitzgerald host this event?"

"He cornered me yesterday." Balthazar shuddered, trying to push the back memory.

Castiel rubbed his temples profusely, his dizziness threatening to come back. Suddenly, their table was under the glare of a spotlight.

"—recognize the forerunners of this event, our beloved Castiel Novak and Balthazar Roche! An inverted triangle of applause, everyone." Castiel inwardly groaned as both of them stood up. They simultaneously took a bow and then sat down again.

"—yes, yes, I know, I'm awesome. We're awesome. Right? So before we start the activities planned for this evening, let me share a joke I've found on the internet… right, here it is. Why are most politicians in the closet or gay?"

Castiel sighed as Balthazar gasped by his side.

"Why?" A chorus of voices asked.

"Because they can only mandate! Garthed, right?" He offered the microphone to the direction of the politicians, but anyone could see it was pointed to Michael.

Castiel cringed. Of all the people, really. "Someone needs to get him off the stage." He whispered.

All Garth received from the politician was a steely gaze with a hanging threat. Garth gulped and quickly pulled the microphone back to him. "Right, wrong politician… S-so uhm, before we eat, here's a dance number!" He said all too quickly as he practically fled from the stage. Music started and suddenly the stage was full of males and females in skimpy outfits that had the audience cheering.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you let him host to teach him a lesson." Castiel mused. Balthazar only gave him a knowing smile for an answer.

The food didn't disappoint. The main course was a balance of green and meaty that Castiel approved of. He did talk to the chef beforehand, back when he was still in Lawrence, through a phone call that he wanted the meals to be a mixture of the food pyramid, contrary to popular belief that all gays wanted to eat was green, leafy vegetables.

A blonde lesbian went up the stage who Castiel remembered as Chastity.

"Hello everyone!" She waved. "Unfortunately, "Garth Vader" had sudden matters to attend to, so I will be your emcee for the remainder of the night."

The people cheered.

"Before we continue anything else, I'd like to mention a few names. We are honored to have you grace us with your presence Senator Michael Novak," Michael gracefully stood up as people clapped for him. "…Senator Raphael Barnes" A dark-skinned man beside Michael also stood up. "…and local representative Zachariah Fuller! It is a pleasure to have all of you with us tonight."

Chastity smiled charmingly while waiting for the clapping to stop. Once the noise died down, she spoke again.

"We'd like to call on Senator Novak to climb up the stage to share with us his sentiments about the event."

Michael walked towards the make-shift stage with a poise that demanded respect and reverence. A pedestal was waiting for him, and Chastity placed the microphone on the pedestal's holder for the senator. Only camera clicks could be heard as everyone anticipated the senator's speech.

"Fellow citizens—yes, not gays, not lesbians, but fellow citizens. Because in the eyes of the law, we are all equal, or at least, we will be. It has been a pleasure to witness such an event like the Gay Pride March. Even if my brother, Castiel," He paused for a moment to look at Castiel, "wasn't gay, I would still be here to support this minority. But he is, and I love him for that. I grew up knowing that homosexuality is a sin. When Castiel first told me, I was baffled. I had no idea, but hey, that's why they call it coming out of the closet. No one's supposed to know. Long story short, I learned to accept my brother's sexuality. It may not be easy for everyone, but think about it. These people, in front of me, are our blood. They are brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers. I told myself that if I continued to alienate Castiel just because he took one brave step of telling me what he really is, I would've lost my little brother. And I realized how foolish it was for me to even be contemplating about cutting all ties with him. I would probably never forgive myself forever if I let belief and religion come between our bond as brothers. Blood always comes first. At least in this situation, it should be. So to everyone here at the moment, I raise to you my glass, for being brave, for taking that step and marching on to prove to everyone that your are normal. Because straight or not, we are all citizens of USA. We are all equal." A round of applause broke through the crowd, and like a wildfire, suddenly everyone was joining, some even standing as they clapped hard for the senator who vowed to stand for them.

"And before I go, Mr. Roche, this is your cue."

Castiel turned to Balthazar questioningly. Suddenly, all lights were out except for the spotlight that was yet again on their table. All heads turned to them. Balthazar gently took his left hand, smiling sheepishly during the process, and knelt. Castiel's breath hitched, along with everyone who was watching the scene.

I have read somewhere that learning to say "yes" brings positivity to a person's life.

"Castiel Novak, will you marry me?"

The woman beneath him moaned wantonly as he worked on her neck, alternating between nipping and sucking. He pushed up a knee between her thighs and was pleased to know how wet she was for him. He could feel his cock slowly hardening against his jeans as he ground his hips against hers. Slipping his right hand underneath her shirt, his hand immediately went to cup her breast, eliciting another moan from her.

"Yeah, baby, moan for me." Dean whispered, his mouth dangerously close to hear ear. He used his left hand to trace her smooth thighs and then push her skirt up to her waist. Before he could pull down her red thongs however, his phone rang.

"Damn it." He cursed, moving away from the woman. He pulled his phone out his jean's pocket and stared at the blinking name in his screen.

Sam

Dean cursed his brother, the ultimate cockblock. He turned to the woman who was now pouting at him and forced a smile. "I really need to take this call. It'll just be quick, okay?" The woman just nodded dazedly.

He inhaled deeply, willing himself to calm down and then answered the phone. "Okay, Sammy, this better be good."

"Oh wait—did I just?" Even if Sam wasn't in the room, he knew his younger brother was smirking at his predicament right now.

"Get to the point!" Dean snarled.

"Right, right. I think it's better if you take a look at the news."

"Can't you just tell me?"

"Just go look at the news, Dean. I mean, I've already interrupted you so—"

"Fine! Just stop talking." Dean cut him off. He reached for the remote control, ignoring the glare of the woman currently on his bed, and turned on the television.

What he saw rendered him speechless. There on the screen was a picture of two men. One had black hair sticking out in odd angles. He had a lithe frame and he appears to be shocked as the other man was kneeling in front of him, holding out a ring.

"—though both Castiel Novak and Balthazar Roche deny past allegations of being romantically involved, the relationship ironically comes out of the closet as wine magnate Balthazar Roche proposes to his long time "best friend", Castiel Novak, the brother of senator Michael Novak and head of the Novak Medical Group."

Suddenly, an amateur video replaced the picture. Dean saw Balthazar get down on one knee and pop the question. He held his breath just as everyone else at the venue gave off a collective gasp.

And then he heard it. That gravelly voice.

"Yes."

He switched off the television, and threw the remote control carelessly. It landed on the floor, the batteries rolling out of their case but Dean didn't seem to notice. His heart was beating fast and his cock was no longer hard. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to get the scene off of his mind. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't feel this way. Yes, he was angry at the man, but it should be because of an entirely different reason and not because he said yes to the fucking wine specialist. It shouldn't fucking hurt, he told himself.

"Hey, are you—"

"Get out." He ordered softly but the woman heard him.

"What? Are you crazy? We're in the middle of—"

"I said get out!" He yelled this time, turning to the woman with a glare. Her eyes widened in fear and she scrambled to get her things and fix her clothes. Running, she showed herself out the room, slamming the door behind her.

To Be Continued

Please tell me what you think of it! :)