Castiel blew out the last of the candles, leaving the church in complete darkness. The darkness was something Castiel had always secretly embraced – it provided a comforting feeling of silence and safety. He began down the church aisle, before turning and casting a glance at the large cross, illuminated before him in the pale moonlight that shone through the cracked windows. He whispered a soft prayer in Enochian, a language few knew. As he turned back towards the door, the wood covered in the light reds and blues of the stained glass, a dark shadow stuck out to him amidst the similar darkness. He took a cautious step forward, knowing in his heart that there was truly nothing to fear, although the thought still plagued a piece of his mind.
"Well well, what do we have here?" a rough voice echoed through the hall, causing the priest to stop just ahead of the shadow. The demon stepped forwards, revealing himself more and more with every step. Castiel's eyes widened and his heart twisted a little in what should have been fear; in truth, it was excitement. An excitement that no man of God should ever feel. "Nowhere to run…" Dean smirked softly, slowly closing the gap between them. Castiel took a step back to counter Dean's steps forwards, until he let out a small gasp when his back hit the front most wall, the cross hanging grimly above him "My pretty little lamb…"
Castiel swallowed audibly, his hands slowly moving upwards to grasp the cross that hung loosely around his neck in a desperate act of righteousness. Dean chuckled, his completely black eyes shimmering in the moonlight, just the way Castiel had always liked them. A weak prayer slipped past the priest's lips, the soft, religious words holding no meaning for him now. His eyes closed of their own accordance, so he did not notice the demon's hand move to place it on top of Castiel's own. The motion started out as an almost tender stroking of Castiel's skin, before it turned in to the rough grasping of the cross and pulling it from the priest's neck. There, in that moment, Castiel should have felt something akin to fear, maybe even anger, but he felt nothing but pure and whole wanting.
Dean flashed him a dark smile, his teeth bearing ever so slightly. The demon tugged at Castiel's black shirt, while his other hand grasped at the clerical collar, throwing it behind him to lay on the floor with the priest's cross. Castiel's eyes opened, and he dared not take them off of Dean, not even as the demon began to undress him. Before long, Castiel stood naked in front of the demon, who was still fully clothed in black jeans and a thin, dark shirt. The situation was unfair, from Castiel's point of view, but he knew better than to open his mouth.
Dean gently stroked through Castiel's hair, his touch degrading, comforting, and terrifying all at once. The demon pinned Castiel firmly against the wall with his own body, before leaning in close to the priest, his breath ghosting across Castiel's skin "Forgive me Father, I'm about to sin…" he whispered, before biting down on the shell of Castiel's ear. The priest's breath hitched and his body tensed, his mind filling with every verse from the Bible that taught him of lust – Corinthians 6:18, Galatians 5:16, Corinthians 6:9…. The stream of thoughts, however, was interrupted by Dean's hand stroking his hip bone, making Castiel shiver. The demon's hand ventured lower, down to his thigh, purposefully avoiding the place he knew Castiel wanted to be touched the most. More often than not, Dean would make him beg for it, make sinful words fall from his lips in the most shameful ways possible. But not tonight. Tonight was different, but simple. Cas liked things when they were simple.
Roughly, but in a smooth movement, Dean pressed Castiel's chest against the wall, forcing his head on its side so the priest had no choice but to stare at the broken stained glass image of an angel. Castiel closed his eyes, trying to focus on the demon's touch, and not the demon himself, but that privilege was quickly taken from him when Dean's fingers dug in to the priest's jaw. "Better open your eyes, priest, or I'll just assume that you don't need your sight anymore" he growled low, and Castiel had no doubt in his mind that Dean wouldn't hesitate to follow through on his threat. He opened his eyes, staring out of the corner of them to watch the demon, who was busying himself with undoing his own jeans. Dean only pulled his pants down as far as he needed to, and otherwise stayed fully clothed. Castiel assumed it was just to make him feel more ashamed. And he loved it.
Dean could never fuck Castiel from behind; he couldn't see the look in Castiel's eyes that way. The look in Castiel's eyes was almost as good as actually fucking the priest, because so many emotions flooded through them. There was, most obviously, shame, but behind the shame there was lust. Lust and want and need. And that's what Dean strived to pull from Castiel – those sinful little emotions that no respecting priest should ever feel. At least not because of a demon. Dean, being a demon, was of course the very definition of evil, and cruelty, but he never liked being messy or aggressive. This is why he would never rape Castiel. No, he liked coming to the priest freely, enjoyed the spark of fear and excitement Castiel gave off in the dark of the church.
The demon was inside of Castiel in a moment, and Castiel wasn't sure if it had something to do with Dean being a demon, or if he'd just been too distracted with his own thoughts to notice Dean pushing inside of him. The priest was always wonderfully tight, and Dean had to grip Castiel's hips incredibly tight to give himself the proper leverage to start thrusting. Castiel got little to no time to adjust to Dean's cock, which was larger than Castiel's own, but he liked it this way: quick and rough and just enough to satisfy the lust that he always had to keep contained. Dean started thrusting deep and rough right away, but it didn't hurt. He supposed one of the perks of being a supernatural being was that he could simply make lubricant appear out of thin air. The demon developed a steady rhythm of thrusting inside of the priest, occasionally hitting his prostate and savouring the reaction Castiel gave him.
Castiel didn't respond immediately, and Dean saw that delightful shame and guilt in his eyes. But it only took a few thrusts right to Castiel's prostate that had the priest start to thrust back against him. The dark shame started to recede, and was replaced by the even darker look of lust. "Where is your God now, Castiel?" Dean hissed in Castiel's ear, glancing up at the large cross the hung above their heads with an absolutely evil smirk. Castiel didn't dare look up, because he knew he would see Christ's eyes staring back down at him, and he couldn't bare that. The demon thrust so hard in to Castiel that the priest's back continuously kept hitting the wall with a soft thud, and Castiel was having a difficult time keeping himself upright.
The priest could feel that tightness in his stomach, that coil that was begging to be undone, but needed more. Needed that little bit more, but he knew Dean wouldn't give it to him. He knew Dean wouldn't even allow him to have that little bit more until the last possible moment, when he was ready to drop to his knees and beg for it. The demon felt Castiel's body tense and shaking with his high slowly rising, and Dean simply threw Castiel's legs over his hips as he thrust in to the priest that much harder. Castiel hardly realized he was moaning and whimpering, the high pitched sounds echoing throughout the empty space of the old church. Dean waited until Castiel was panting heavily, clawing at the white walls behind him, before he looked the priest dead in the eye and nodded "Do it"
There was absolutely not a single moment of hesitation before Castiel's hand covered his aching cock, stroking it hard and fast as he bucked his hips up in to his hand, and then down on to Dean's cock. Castiel had unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut tight as he stroked himself roughly, but Dean allowed it, because he was enjoying the show in front of him all too much. Just when Castiel felt himself about to come undone, he gripped the base of his cock and stopped moving altogether, looking deep in to Dean's gleaming black eyes. Dean didn't say or do anything for a few torturous moments, letting Castiel squirm in wait. Not seconds later, Castiel spoke for the first time that night to utter one, broken word "Please" Dean pouted his lips in mock thought, before giving the smallest of nods, at which Castiel stroked himself one last time, before coming.
Dean thrusted a few more times as Castiel came, before coming himself, but of course, his climax was not as shattering as the priest's was. It was so rare that Castiel got any release at all, and his high was always so blissfully powerful. Dean's shirt was covered in thin white ropes of Castiel's come, as well as Castiel's own chest and hand. The demon slowly pulled out of Castiel, and let the priest slide down the wall when Castiel's legs were too weak to support the rest of his body. Dean stepped back from Castiel, tucking himself neatly back in to his jeans as he watched the completely broken priest pant on the ground. The demon broke the intense gaze between the two to turn and bend down, picking up Castiel's rosary and throwing it to him, which Castiel clumsily caught. Castiel glanced down at the cross in his hands, and when he looked back up, Dean had disappeared.
So, Castiel did what he always did. He sat, completely naked on the floor of the church, eyes closed tight, and he prayed. Prayed for forgiveness for his sins. Prayed for salvation. Prayed for Dean to return to him again.