Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus

"You don't want to do that," Dean announced with a languorous smile.

Castiel paused, the next word on the tip of his tongue as he glanced up from the exorcism he was reading aloud.

Stepping to the edge of the carpet, where beneath it lay the devil's trap, Bobby asked "and why's that hellspawn?"

Rolling his eyes as if the answer were glaringly obvious Dean looked down the bridge of his nose at Bobby, "because if I get sent back down to the pit, it means I've failed with my assignment."

A bitter snap of laughter escaped Castiel, "I'm terribly sorry that you won't be getting employee of the month."

Dean shrugged noncommittally "fine, you don't want to hear me out, but don't complain about it later when you've got a pack of hellhounds chewing on your intestines after being subjected to scaphism*."

Bobby's glare deepened whilst Castiel gripped the exorcism with a growing sense of dread.

Taking their silence as permission to go on Dean continued, "demons are nothing if tenacious, they won't stop coming once they've got their mind set on something, no way. Once I'm out of the picture they'll start sending the demons that were never human to begin with. I'm not lying when I say you're cutting your losses by keeping me floating around."

Dean grinned, gums peeling back to reveal his white teeth, "you know I ain't lyin' grandpa."

Bobby lowered his shotgun, hope leeched out of him by Dean's words, "so this wasn't random then?"

Dean shook his head, grin splitting wider, "nope and that means Hell won't stop."

Castiel digested the words horror, a gnawing pit of cold anguish eating away at him from the inside. He was breathless as the green eyed monster stared at him with his Cheshire grin.

"Well then," Bobby began, "we won't be sending you downstairs after all, but Castiel will be safe so long as you're stuck down here in the devil's trap."

Dean's grin evaporated, a frustrated snarl curling his lips instead "don't you dare leave me down here. I'll break out sooner or later and when I do I'm going to be pissed."

Steeling himself, Castiel walked around the devil's trap, foot on the first step leading back into the church, "I'll take my chances."

Bobby and Castiel ascended that stairs, the angry shouts of the demon battering them as they left.

0…0…0…

Dean sat himself down on the moth eaten carpet. A headache pounded a tattoo against his skull as the devil's trap continued to bottle away his strength.

Resting his chin in the palm of his hand Dean stared absently. The fury from being imprisoned was finally giving way to abject resignation.

He was finally back on Earth. All that time spent in Hell, clamouring to reach the surface and he was too late. He didn't want to think about it, he had carefully built a wall around those feelings when he saw what year it was. 2012.

He was too late.

Time was hard to keep track of in Hell.

He was too late.

Those words kept repeating in his head, adding to his headache that was rapidly evolving into a migraine.

Pinching the bridge of his nose Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the crushing darkness of the church's basement. Within the devil's trap he was practically human and right now he was as blind as a newborn whelp.

Maybe that's why the walls he had constructed in Hell were falling. He had nearly forgotten what it was like being human, but being up here again with his powers stripped away it was all coming back.

Everything reminded Dean of him.

The salt line by the door, the pools of holy water on the floor above him, the smell of gun grease that pervaded the air. Even the rain brought back long buried images of him, with his freakishly long hair and infectious smile.

He missed him. It was like having a limb wrenched from him. The nerves were still raw and frayed and sometimes in those moments of déjà vu he thought for a bitter sweet moment that he was still with him. Phantom limb syndrome.

Dean was still catching up to the idea he would never see him again.

Sam was in Heaven and demons could never see Heaven.

Dean fought back the overwhelming tide of despair, tried to resurrect the walls he had built in Hell but this devil's trap was sapping his strength.

It was forcing him to think, to remember, to feel.

And he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Castiel was going to pay.

0…0…0…

The church bell rang out, rousing Dean from his stupor with its boom.

He felt strangely well rested. He must have fallen asleep. Rubbing the gravel from his eyes Dean stood up and stretched, flexing his muscles and extending it to his limited powers.

The rest had done him good. At the tips of his fingers he felt the familiar tingle of power. Closing his eyes Dean concentrated on breaking the stone floor to create a line. He felt the slabs of granite resisting; the rock was old and strong. Concentrating he found a small vein of weakness where water from a leak in a subterranean pipe had slowly eroded at the stone.

Sucking in a breath Dean gathered more power to himself, his skin thrummed with energy as the devil's trap awoke to his scheme. It burned at him, clawing away at his gathering power. But it was too late. With a grunt of exertion Dean released the power he had called and released it in one concentrated burst. A satisfying crack punctuated the darkness.

Suddenly, sensation flooded back to Dean. His eyes adjusted, revealing the basement to him. Sound came crashing back, he could hear a crowd of people moving above him; heels scraping on stone and voices filled with merriment.

Stepping out of the devil's trap Dean climbed up the stairs and opened the door, watching the surprised expressions of the well-dressed people filling the rows of pews.

White lilies spread their sweet perfume and soft piano music wove its way through the conversation. Several men stood at the base of the raised platform all in black tuxedos each with a white lily pinned to their breast.

It finally clicked; it was a wedding.

Dean watched as the groom shuffled nervously at the front, the man was tall with deep brown eyes. An image of Sam flickered before Dean's eyes.

Stifling the desire to mope Dean made his way to the back of the church, intent on leaving despite his earlier threats to tear Castiel limb from limb.

The music swelled, people hushed and sat themselves, stilling Dean's progress to the door.

The wooden doors swung open, revealing a slender young woman in a simple cream wedding dress. Curling locks of golden hair framed her face and fell to her shoulders in artfully sculpted undulations. Her eyes glittered as she saw her groom waiting for her.

Once again a ghost transposed itself on the woman's face, transforming the blushing bride into Jessica.

This was getting far too surreal.

The bride and her father began their walk down the aisle, forcing Dean to take an empty seat next to a vacant old man who smelled vaguely of laundry soap.

Dean hadn't planned on staying for the whole ordeal but he found himself sitting quietly on the pew. Dean simply sat and watched as the bride and groom exchanged their vows. Smiles were thrown about the church like confetti.

A strange sense of peace seemed to descend on the demon, unlike anything he had felt for the past dozen decades he had lived in the pit.

{}

It was nearing the end of the service before Castiel noticed Dean. Fear lanced him and rendered him mute as the lips of the bride and groom met.

However he soon realized Dean's attention wasn't on him.

Quirking a brow Castiel followed Dean's line of vision, discovering he was watching what everyone else was watching; the wedding.

Quelling the anxious fluttering in his belly, Castiel finished the service without a hitch, until finally he was left alone with Dean in the church.

Cautiously, Castiel approached the demon. Standing next to the pew Dean was seated at Castiel cleared his throat, nervous energy buzzing through his blood.

Raising his head Dean looked at Castiel and sighed, "I'm behaving padre."

Smiling ruefully Castiel walked down the pew and sat next to Dean. They sat there quietly, in a tense silence.

Castiel's mouth went dry as he berated himself over and over. This had to be one of his worst ideas. Sitting next to a demon that wanted to damn him to Hell or flay him for resisting. Yet Dean just turned his head to look at him curiously, eyebrows raised expectantly. The simple movement was so human.

With a dry click Castiel opened his mouth, tongue a heavy piece of lead.

Exhaling through his nostrils Dean felt his lips slip into a warm smile, the wedding had calmed him immensely. "Well this is awkward. Aren't you going to run away screaming or try and exorcise me again?"

Castiel's eyes shot to Dean's, eyes widening at the light jovial tone. It wasn't hostile or goading, it was…friendly.

Smiling Castiel shook his head, "no, not right now. But I thought you said you were going to strangle me with my own small intestines because I'd left you in the devil's trap. Bobby and I didn't think you'd break out in a few hours though."

Dean shrugged nonchalantly, "what can I say? I'm a bad ass. And I'm not going to gut you quite yet Cas."

Castiel rolled his eyes and felt his tense muscles begin to relax in the tranquil atmosphere.

"So why'd you stay for the wedding?"

Dean leaned forward, taking hold of a little red hymnbook to thumb through whilst he thought of an answer. After a minute of hearing the leaves of paper whisper against each other Dean faced Castiel fully and decided to tell the priest the truth.

Castiel's ocean blue eyes looked back at him expectantly, free of the fear and terror that Dean usually saw.

It was different. Nice, even.

"'Cos the groom reminded me of my brother, Sam. And the bride funnily enough was the spitting image of his girlfriend Jessica."

Castiel nodded "and did they get married?"

Dean's lips thinned, a dark shadow passing over his features, "nope, Jessica died; a demon got her."

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's leg, jolting Dean out of the memories of dragging Sam from the raging flames. "I'm sorry Dean."

Dean sighed, trying to ignore the warm weight on his leg, "yeah well we killed that nasty son of a bitch at least."

Castiel's head jerked up in surprise, "you can kill a demon?"

Crossing his arms over his chest Dean glared down at Castiel, "yeah, you can, but don't go getting any ideas Cas, I'm not telling you how."

Castiel took his hand away from Dean's leg and clicked his fingers, "damn, and I was this close."

Dean stood and stretched, the sun's light was leaking away from the church in errant yellow lines, "yeah, nice try Cas."

Looking up at Dean Castiel watched as the fading daylight sent glimmers of gold into Dean's bright bottle green eyes.

"Well see you tomorrow Cas, I've got some drinking to do."

This was all getting a little too cosy for Dean's liking, some strong booze to warm his belly and fog his head was all the medicine he needed to get back on the game.

A frown tugged at Castiel's expression and an evanescent touch of guilt jabbed at Dean.

Castiel stood, aware of how close he was to the demon thanks to the small space between the pews. "I can't say I'm looking forward to you trying to damn my soul again tomorrow."

Beaming a genuine smile Dean reached down to grab a firm handful of Castiel's ass, "that's my boy."

Jumping back in shock Castiel glared at Dean, but couldn't quite work up the appropriate amount of distain in the expression.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, Dean once again disappeared from the church, leaving Castiel to stand alone with the oppressive silence ringing in his ears.

0…0…0…

Soft fingertips traced the heated flesh of his thigh. Shivers cascaded down his back as he looked down into lidded eyes. Castiel's chest heaved with breath as he watched Dean's fingers move ever so closer to his straining erection.

Strangely it only just occurred to Castiel that they were both naked, but it didn't seem to matter.

A long moan left Castiel's parted lips as he felt Dean's fingers wrap themselves around his aching cock. Slowly, Dean began a gentle rhythm, his rosy lips falling to Castiel's hip to lick away the beads of sweat.

Castiel clenched the sheets as the tempo of Dean's hand sped up, adding to the furnace of heat gathering in his belly.

Dean's hand moved away from Castiel's cock, causing a frustrated growl to emerge from Castiel.

Lifting his head Castiel watched the taught muscles of Dean's back moving and the shift of his shoulder blades moving under his tanned skin. The bed creaked as Dean moved further up the bed toward Castiel. The demon bit his lip, the reddish hue of the flesh turning white with the pressure.

Leaning down, Dean swiped his tongue over the head of Castiel's cock, eliciting a wanton moan of pleasure from Castiel.

Toes curling, Castiel propped himself up on his elbows to watch Dean's ministrations.

Dean's wet tongue slipped down Castiel's cock, tasting the salt and heat emanating from the flesh. His tongue followed the engorged vein on the underside, all the way until he reached the neat black hairs at its base.

Panting, Castiel laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, fiery blue eyes silently urging for more. Dean took the cue, his plump lips parting around the head of Castiel's, taking the crown of into his burning hot mouth.

A long guttural sound tore itself from Castiel's throat, one hand still clenching Dean's shoulder with force enough to bruise, the other wrapped in the bed sheets.

Soon Castiel's cock was shining with Dean's saliva as the demon ran his mouth up and down Castiel's flesh, a purr vibrating his throat.

Clenching his eyes shut Castiel tried to fight off his inevitable orgasm. With a wet pop Dean raised his head, a hand gently cupping Castiel's cheek. "I want you watching."

Opening his eyes Castiel looked down at Dean, his own face held a pleasant flush and his lips were full and shined with spittle.

Assured Castiel was watching Dean went down on him again, tongue swirling around the cock, savouring the musk of Castiel's pre-cum.

Castiel felt pure bliss thrumming throughout his blood stream, his body was far too hot and Dean's tongue was like silk running over his engorged cock.

Dean angled his head, the tip of his tongue teasing over the slit of Castiel's cock. Dean hummed with appreciation, a hand moving to fondle Castiel's tightening balls.

With a cry Castiel came in long, agonizingly good spurts of cum that filled Dean's mouth.

Dean's eyes were latched onto Castiel's he never moved as Castiel's cum entered his mouth. Tiny pearlescent droplets escaped from the edges of Dean's mouth, only to leak in lines down Castiel's softening dick.

Dean's eyes narrowed with amusement. Swallowing Dean pulled away; a line of cum still attached his lips to the head of Castiel's cock.

Laying back in the bed Castiel panted to catch his breath, basking in the tingling afterglow of his orgasm.

{}

Suddenly Castiel jolted awake, wide eyes scanning the darkness.

He was alone in his room in the church. Glancing over at the clock he read the time as 3:45 AM.

Running a shaking hand over his face Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a dream.

Shifting his legs under the sheets Castiel groaned as he felt wet semen clinging to his boxers.

Despite his better judgment it seemed, his subconscious at least, was lusting after a depraved but admittedly handsome demon.


(A/N: *Scaphism is a very nasty type of torture/execution that was used by the Persians which involved diarrhea, insects and gangrene. If you're morbidly curious about the rest you can google it.

So this chapter was kind of an interlude, all of the real plot bunnies and action is starting in the next chapter.

Also, please don't forget to review, they motivate me greatly meaning better chapters and faster updates. Lastly I'm sorry the formatting for this is shitty any advice about how to make it 'neater' to make it easier to read would be appreciated. Thanks for reading.)