so the phrase write drunk edit sober might be a good idea if I had only gotten around to the editing part sorry if this chapter sucks.

He was leaning back against the stack of pillows on the pallet in the floor. Besides him the couple continued to writhe together. They seemed attached at the mouth. He watched as Dean Winchester bent over the human his body was buzzing his veins still singing full of endorphins. He couldn't make out what they said as they spoke quietly to each other. He wasn't sure what the human was to him, but his warning to the other indicated some level of attachment. He shouldn't have bothered with the mask, he mused as the leather scratched at the corners of his jaw if Crowley hadn't recognized him it was doubtful that Dean would. Still discretion was what had gotten him this far… that and his appreciation for taking it up the ass… people had the tendency of looking down on those who serviced others, those who volunteered as sex slaves more than most. As if reading his thoughts Dean Winchester was mysteriously before him again to prove him wrong. He had pulled jeans on but he was still shirtless leaving a pleasant expanse of tanned chest.

"Eat up." He insisted tossing him something. He wasn't prepared his reflexes slowed the item hit him in the chest painlessly before falling to his lap.

He glanced down at the packaged chocolate bar. In his hand Dean still had a blanket and a bottle of yellow sport's drink.

Just when he thought he couldn't be surprised by life after the apocalypse this happened.

"I told you I'm fine." He insisted slightly annoyed sitting up, supporting himself with both arms his knee raised.

"I'm not gonna drop." He continued almost as if it was a point of pride.

The look on the man's face screamed that he wasn't going to take his word on the matter. With an arched brow he handed over the sport's drink dropping the blanket at his feet, not pushing it on him.

"I'm going in the other room for a little bit, but I will be able to hear if you call. I will be back soon and when I am you better have finished off both of those." He insisted quietly. He wasn't pushing him but there wasn't any doubt of what was expected of him either. It was a curious sensation.

"I'm not going to drop," he insisted "I don't drop." He added indignantly. "Besides…" he continued breaking eye contact for some reason Dean's deep green eyes were pulling him in.

"Crowley has left me much worse off then what we did tonight." He admitted perversely as if wanting to prove that he could handle anything that was dished out.

"Do I look like that smarmy British asshat?" he asked angrily.

Surprised he shook his head unsure what else he was meant to do.

As if satisfied with his response he turned towards the couple on the floor.

"If this …" he insisted gesturing vaguely towards the couple "…leads to a round two call me."

He winked at him before he swaggered his way across the room and un-handcuffed the human leading him away.

Perhaps Dean Winchester was the way in he had been looking for Jason mused

Abaddon wanted hell badly, preferably by force it had taken much convincing on his part to get the knight to agree to try his way. She was the most blood thirsty demon he had ever seen outside of Picasso with a razor and he still suspected she could give Alastair a run for his money. She and the rest of her followers were outnumbered, and while he was basically suck between a rock and a hard place. Abaddon was strong and a knight of hell. He trusted her over Crowley in the event of Lucifer's return, but she definitely did not have the raw numbers to beat him outright. Not yet. For low level guys like him it all came down to picking the winning team, and Dean Winchester was it. Any side that had Dean Winchester on it came out ahead in the end. Until the unfortunate matter of his death he'd been on a really good streak, and honestly that bit backfired for the natural order because Dean made on hell of an interesting demon. Dean was loyal to Crowley only because it was convenient. Maybe there was a way that he could change that.

Covington, Louisiana November 18th, 1948

Less than five miles outside St Benedict Louisiana

"We picked him up on a drunken disorderly." The officer was saying over his shoulders. Castiel followed the man through the twisted back halls of the police station towards the cells.

The officer shot a look over his head. "But the man has a record a mile wide are you sure you wanna help someone like him Father?"

"Actually I'm not a priest yet." He replied he was a Deacon he hoped to be ordained as a priest in the next six months. It was clear the man was unsure how to address him. While Covington was close to the seminary not everyone in the area was Catholic. "Deacon." Castiel replied he nodded absently. "Anyway Deacon… sir" he added unsurely "This man's been arrested for fraud, breaking and entering, grave desecration." The last he turned back to Castiel again with a strange expression which showed how he found the last crime the most reprehensible.

"Not burglary?" Castiel asked they had stopped at the door leading into the room.

The officer shook his head scowling. Obviously this man troubled the officer. The confused look on his face spoke volumes.

"He never took anything." Castiel frowned. "The fraud was for using fake Id's." the officer continued.

Castiel nodded he sounded like a good candidate for outreach as long as he didn't have violent tendencies.

"Has he hurt anyone?"

The office scratched his head. "That's just it, people talk about him as if he was hero." Castiel absorbed the fact and filed it away for later.

"Half of the breaking and entering charges were eventually dropped."

A good candidate. While he wasn't yet the priest in Crossroads the current priest was more than willing to let Castiel participate and even create outreaches. He felt someone with a criminal past on the road to redemption would be a good example for others. He waffled on the idea for several days before approaching Officer Casey. He had asked for a man preferable middle aged or older with a checkered, but nonviolent past looking for a job. The arrest record went back about five years but the man was in his fifties. To Castiel it sounded like a man who was forced to follow the wrong path.

"Let me talk to him." He finally decided the other man shrugged.

Unlocking the door.

The room was small still there were five cells crammed into the small space. The man in question was sprawled across the cot. His arm flung over his eyes.

"Balthazar Smith?" Castiel called out addressing the man.

"What do you want?" he asked he hadn't moved, his speech was still slightly slurred. His accent was decidedly British.

"I want to speak to you about an opportunity." He begun stepping closer.

The man sat up slowly looking over. He groaned beneath his breath, he seemed obviously to feel the effects of a night drinking. He sported a blackened eye and bruises along his face. His lip was split, Castiel wasn't sure if the injuries were sustained during the arrest or sometime before that. The office had claimed that it was a drunken disorderly, but he also agreed that the man wasn't violent.

He finally looked over towards him and his eyes widened. Castiel assumed it was his liturgical vestments. He wore his cassock and while he was still in training he wore the Roman collar, the bishop allowed for such when ministering.

"Bloooody hellll…" the man swore drawing out the words.

"My name is." "Castiel." The man whispered his tone hushed. He nodded "I see they told you I was coming." Rather than reply the man simply nodded. Staring at him as if he had seen a ghost.

"You're a priest?" He asked incredulously "Deacon, actually but I hope to be ordained by next year." He continued.

The man seemed mystified by the concept. So Castiel continued with his own set of questions.

"The officer said you spent some time in prison." The man was still staring at him as if he was the Holy Grail. He was unkempt his brown hair was short, but was disarrayed standing up from him in odd angles. He had several days' worth of beard growth on his face, the stubble and hair gave him a bedraggled edge. He wore dark colored slacks a white shirt with a dark brown thigh length overcoat.

"Three years in Angola." He admitted still staring.

Castiel pointed to the injuries on his face. "Were you fighting?" he asked

The man touched his split lip gingerly almost as if he had forgotten about it.

"Hunting accident." He replied. Something about the way he said it caused Castiel to believe him.

"Can you explain why people have dropped charges against you?"

He shrugged. "I assume it's my charming personality." He remarked there was an edge of something else. Mirth, underlying a secret. There was more than he was letting on.

"What opportunity were you talking about?" he queried.

"A possibility of a job." Castiel continued.

"And you would help me get one?" he asked strangely emphasizing the word you rather than focusing on job.

"Yes." Castiel agreed. "I would endeavor to find you a job that might over look your criminal past. That is if it stays in the past."

He nodded knowingly.

"Are you bailing me out?" he wondered he stepped up to bars wrapping his hands around them he leaned forward oddly draping himself over them.

Castiel stepped closer. He could smell the man's cologne and the smell of alcohol. His eyes were piercing.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He admitted. He didn't have the funds for the man's bail but he wasn't being kept indefinably, the officer explained once he sobered up they would let him go he would likely receive a fine.

The man was looking at him strangely taking him in. Castiel felt oddly exposed.

"A priest." he murmured again almost to himself "What are the odds".

"And why is that?" he wondered.

"Because I've been looking for… faith all my life." Their eyes met and again he felt that there was a strange sense that they were talking about different things.

"So you will repent and come with me?"

"I'd follow you to the ends of the earth." He answered instantly the conviction in his words seemed incongruous to the situation, but he could respect a man's desire to change.

"You've been a citizen for six years correct?" he asked. "Was it because of the war?" Castiel asked conversationally trying to get a better understanding of the man before him. He had the stance of a soldier. He had seen that look in some of his fellow soldiers after he had returned home. A darkness.

"I landed here in 1942 and yes it was because of a war." He replied and again Castiel got the sense they were having two conversations at once.

"I see." He replied.

"You were a solider?" Balthazar asked looking him over again.

He nodded. "You?"

"Seems like all my life." He admitted. "I am ready for a change."

Castiel never regretted helping Balthazar even if the man didn't change as much as he wished he had. He was still an irrepressible drunk, and a sarcastic somewhat narcissistic vagabond but he was a loyal friend. More than Castiel could have ever hoped for. Still there were times when he wondered about the man and his past. He was tightlipped about his past before Castiel met him and even more so about his past before coming to the US. Castiel stopped wondering he was hiding a deeper criminal past, but rather what forms of abuse kept him from revealing his former life.

Still at one point he admitted that he had come to the states with a mission of finding someone. He never said if he found them.

The mark was quieter now. He could hear his own misgivings now. What he did… while incredibly hot was not right. He might assume that Castiel wanted to watch him fuck and hell maybe he did enjoy it, but he shouldn't have forced him. Currently he was walking towards Cas's temporary bedroom. His hand around the upper portion of the other man's arm. Guiding him forward. His face was apprehensive. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was afraid. His eyes were blown wide and the look on his face was nervous, but he didn't see fear in him. They moved quickly he wasn't dragging the man, they kept pace. He wanted this… that's what he kept telling himself. He was sexually repressed and had to be pushed into finding what he really wanted and it was obvious that he wanted him, they wanted each other. Even as the thoughts filtered across his brain, he knew they felt wrong. The pieces didn't fit together right and hit a discordant note inside him. They reached his bedroom door. Dean released him and opened the door. The man didn't run or fight him… but maybe he was afraid. Dean had been afraid.

Castiel wasn't sure how he felt. He wasn't willing and yet… he could just not fight this. Let Dean touch him and justify to himself that he had no choice. He wasn't sure how he felt there was a swirl of emotions. His heart was beating too fast partially he knew it had to do with his the desires of his body. Which was why sins of the flesh were forbidden to priest they distracted from reality. It felt good, and yet he knew it was wrong. He was so confused. Watching Dean had been the most erotic experience of his life. In the moment he had craved the opportunity to be any of the people writhing with him. He yearned for the privilege of touching him of being touched by him, and yet… he was afraid, somewhere deep inside he couldn't shake the fear. It wasn't even the fear of hell. He was in hell. He had already sold his soul to a demon and he had come to terms with that, why did he still hold back? What had Dean said in that surreal vison?

Iniquity was one of perks? Castiel wasn't sure what to make of the vison yet but he had a more pressing issue to focus on.

Dean looked the man over. He still wasn't sure if what he was doing was right… no honestly he knew it was wrong and still he was having trouble stopping himself. Dean closed the door sealing them alone together. Cas stood before him. The silence was palpable. He looked so innocent and lost. He was biting his lip and yet his erection hadn't flagged. He was still painfully aroused. Dean didn't move towards him. He couldn't move until he decided what the right thing was.

"What do I need to do?" Castiel asked hesitantly.

Dean couldn't bring himself to speak his eyes however inadvertently darted towards the bed. Castiel moved and lay on the mattress. Dean drank him in.

He lay back against the mattress. There was a blush on his cheeks. His erection was clearly visible through his slacks. He wasn't wearing his clerical collar the black shirt was open at the collar because of it. Dean could see the paleness of his throat and chest. He imagined a different sort of collar around his neck. He wanted him. He couldn't even say that it was the mark. Or the connection from the other universe. He wanted the man before him. The lost lonely vulnerable man.

"Now what?" Castiel asked unsurely. He was physically in pain. He wanted release, he wasn't sure if this was what he wanted or not but he would accept this if Dean wanted to make him he wouldn't stop him. If a tiny part of him wanted Dean to touch him he ignored it. He supposed the first step would be to remove his clothing.

Dean watched as Castiel slowly begun to unbutton his shirt before tossing it aside. The expanse of his chest was on display and it was in that instance that he realized that he had never seen the man in any less than his Sunday best. He wanted to bend down and catch one of his nipples in his mouth. Test the taste and texture with his tongue. Lick his way down across his ribs swirl his tongue around his navel.

Dean was watching him in a way that made his heart skip a beat. Was this what it felt like to be desired? This was the feeling he had craved his entire life. Could it really be wrong if it felt this right?

Slowly he begun to unzip his fly.

Dean had him. In this instant he knew that even without physically forcing him. He could make the man do anything that he wanted. He was exposed and susceptible and he couldn't take advantage of him. Not like this. He had been in the very same position once. He shuddered remembering. He had thought that it was what he wanted, but in the end he realized it was manipulation. He opened his mouth to speak when Castiel slipped down his pants, then he was incapable.

Castiel watched Dean as he took his throbbing erection in his hand. In that moment he felt the power in the room shift.

Dean was not forcing him to touch himself. He was the inspiration. Dean made him watch him and while it wasn't what he wanted he couldn't deny that it changed something. It forced him to realize he wanted men, a fact that he known his whole life and yet how somehow shifted to the background of his life. He didn't know the morality of it and in the moment now it didn't matter he just realized that it was who he was.

Dean watched Castiel stroke his cock he moaned loudly almost surprised as his eyes fluttered closed only the biological fact that he had just came was all that kept him from getting hard. As a demon he had a quicker refractory period then if he was human but it wasn't immediate.

"Son of a bitch…" he whispered astounded watching the man.

It was artless. He wasn't putting on a show for his benefit he was feeling good.

"I'm sorry." Dean blurted before turning to leave.

Castiel paused.

"What?" he asked stopping.

Dean wasn't a monster, a demon yes, but he wasn't going to manipulate him like this. The same way Alastair did to him.

"I'll just give you some privacy." He insisted.

Castiel frowned confused again. Did Dean not want to stay? He voiced his confusion.

"Did you… not want to?" he asked not yet able to bring himself to say the words. There was a slight quaver to his voice that he wished wasn't there.

His back was to him.

He chuckled darkly.

"I want to." He replied his voice shaking. "So badly." The yearning in his voice reassured him. There was a hesitation before he continued. "But it's not right." In that moment Castiel felt like he had been stabbed. All his fears all his insecurities… they were right. Dean turned back around in that moment he must have sensed his mood shift.

"Not this." He gestured to him. "Trust me there is so many good things I want to do to you if you and the universe would let me." Castiel paused. "Then what?"

"I forced you to watch me and then manipulated you into this situation. I want to watch you… touch you. Maybe more than anything I've ever wanted but I can't do it like this. I want your consent to all of it. I don't want any doubts between us."

That was the problem wasn't it? Doubt Castiel seemed to be filled with nothing but doubt when it came to Dean. He wasn't sure about anything. He couldn't believe that his desire for Dean was without sin, but he couldn't quite believe that it was inherently wrong either.

"I am going to leave now." He turned his back towards him. "But what if I want you to stay?" Castiel asked sitting up quickly surprising himself. Dean's hand paused on the doorknob.

Maybe to start this situation was beyond his control. What Dean had said was true but Castiel realized that what he said was true also. He didn't want Dean to leave.

"Then tonight when you have a clear head. If you still want to, you know where to find me." He walked out the door shutting it behind him. It was harder than he ever thought it would be leaving him. For several moments he waited leaning against the wood of the door waiting until he heard it. A slight moan coming from the other side of the door. Part of him desperately wanted to turn back and go inside, but he wouldn't. He still had a speck of morality left.

Alastair made him into a demon, but briefly he made him into more than that. When you break a man you can shape him easily into whatever you like and Alastair liked him on his knees.

At the time he knew it wasn't what he wanted, but no didn't feel like an option. Deep down he, knew that he wasn't that man, but he could not say no to Alastair. While there was no shame in being submissive but what Alastair wanted was subservience. He had been afraid. If he had to admit it now if only to himself. The man unmade him once and he knew he was capable of doing it again. For a long time he forgot that sex could be anyway but pain and shame. Alastair's torture was more than just physically ripping into his body. He would coerce him with promises that the pain would stop if he let him touch him and for a while it would. He would suck his cock and Alastair would run his hand through his hair and he would be without pain. Then he would choke the life out of him with his bare hands with no provocation. He could never tell what would set him off. One moment he would be enticing and nearly kind the next he would be torturing him again. Only this time with more vehemence than before almost as if he saw Dean's weakness in giving into him as a punishable offence that he needed to cut out of him. Even after he truly became a demon he couldn't immediately shake Alastair's power over him.

He needed a drink. He needed to drown it all under a sea of booze that was he usual approach after all. Anytime he felt anything he buried it. He pushed it down deep inside of himself. He shoved it down, and let it come back out in spurts of violence and alcoholism. That or he fucked the pain away. Honestly he lost track of how many drinks he had in a week. When he was human it was somewhere in the mid-fifties, now who knew. Sometimes he went through a fifth a night at least sometimes more. Still he couldn't feel anything but empty. It was worse than normal. Having these visions, still they were no closer to finding out who Castiel was and how the universe was changed. He swung by the kitchen for a bottle of hunter's helper before returning to the war room to check on the development of round two.

Lucifer was whispering in his ear, he tried to drown out the sound with Ruby's body, but ultimately he was still equally as angry with her as he was with Lucifer. It was her fault. All of it the apocalypse… Lucifer… what Lucifer did to him. If he hadn't trusted her none of it would have happened, but with Dean gone he had been blinded by vengeance, blood and power.

He pulled away glancing around the room.

"Don't mind me." The man in the mask replied. He was steadily munching on a chocolate bar as he leaned back against the pillow one arm curled behind his head still completely nude.

"Knock yourselves out."

Sam nodded, grabbing Ruby's hand. He wasn't necessarily planning to have sex but he needed to talk to her. Lucifer followed them. The disembodied voice whispering in his ear like a gnat.

Sam and Ruby were gone, but Dean really wasn't that distraught at missing out on round two. Stunt demon number two was leaning back on the pillows the candy bar was gone but he was still working on the sports drink. Dean wasn't going to say anything however. Dean settled down next to him with a sigh. His knees raised up. He offered the man the bottle.

He shook his head. Dean shrugged that was fine with him.

"So… stunt demon number two worked for the orgy but I can't keep that up long term so what's your name."

There was the briefest of a pause before he answered. He still wore the mask and harness so Dean couldn't quite read the hesitant expression in his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was reluctance because he didn't want ruin the mystery or if it was something else.

"Max." he replied extending his hand for a shake.

Dean took it with a laugh. "I think we are a bit beyond this now don't you think?" he teased gesturing to the mask. Max grinned. It looked nice it framed his jaw. There was hesitancy again, before he removed the mask. He liked how tan he was, the bit of dark brown growth on his face, he was attracted to the man that was to be sure. He could see the demon beneath the man, he was a demon after all but he tended to ignore it and focus on the vessel. That might have been a throwback from his time as a hunter but he didn't want a reminder at how fugly demons really were.

He smiled at Dean and Dean felt himself relax.

"So what are you doing with Crowley anyway?" Dean wondered. It didn't seem like Crowley was the best type of master, unless you were an intense masochist. Dean had to admit he wasn't sure how someone could do what Max did. He wasn't sure if it had to do with his bad experience with Alastair or if that kind of submission just wasn't in his nature.

The man shrugged. "It is diverting." He admitted his tone still distant. Max turned towards him his dark mahogany brown eyes focusing on his face.

"What about you?" Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you with Crowley?" "I'm not with Crowley." Dean insisted indignant.

Max shrugged again. "Maybe not in the same way." He conceded. "But you are his attack dog, his enforcer." Dean didn't reply it wasn't like it wasn't true. Max leaned back the back of his head cradled in his hands. "Might want to check and see which one of is really wearing Crowley's collar."

"I am not Crowley's bitch." He insisted feeling his hackles raise.

"No. I am," Max agreed good-naturedly. "You just work for the guy. Much classier."

There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He scowled. The man smiled "Oh cheer up." He teased.

"None of this must be news you." The sad thing was it wasn't. Dean knew what he place was in this new world order. He needed to kill. It was a matter of biology. The mark needed it and it was only a matter of time before he started up again. It was his decision. He chose to take the mark. When Crowley gathered his most loyal demon's to him in opposition against Abaddon. He knew that creating more knights of hell was the only way to combat her. Cain told them the mark came with a price and at the time Dean hadn't cared. He had been willing to pay anything. He had needed a purpose.

"What about the human?" Max wondered drinking from the sports drink.

"What about him?" Dean asked hesitantly. He didn't want to share Castiel. It was a strange concept to him especially since he knew full well while technically he owned Castiel he wasn't his to share.

"He seemed special to you." Max replied. "Well he's not." Dean insisted not wanting to show weakness. Max seemed like a good guy but he couldn't trust anyone.

Max nodded politely but he could tell his heart wasn't in it. He didn't fully believe him.

"He is fascinating." Dean admitted, pacifying him. "I can't figure him out." Max nodded quietly.

"Kinky?" he asked continuing the conversation. "Hardly…" Dean began then paused. He knew the man had it in him to enjoy the kinkier side of life. "He's a priest." he admitted. "And a homophobic virgin."

Max laughed "Do you like a challenge or something?" he wondered and it was true to a certain degree. Dean did love a challenge, but with Cas it was more than that somehow. "Cas is…" he begun floundering for words good enough to describe the man. " I like him." he admitted while it didn't sound like high praise it was.

"But he's human?" "He's different" Dean corrected forgetting to be discreet. It probably didn't help that he had likely dunk his weight in liquor.

"How is he different?" Max wondered. "He reminds me of the past." he admitted and it was as close to the truth as he could admit. Cas reminded him that things could be different. That the apocalypse wasn't always inevitable.

"I can get behind that." Max admitted. Dean turned towards him.

"So being a demon isn't all sugar and spice for you? Dean teased. Max shrugged.

"Might be easier for you…being management and all but for the most part being a demon sucks."

Dean didn't reply it wasn't a lie. He loved to power, that was true, but there was a hollowness deep inside that he assumed was the loss of his humanity that made things different. The same things he used to enjoy during his life were no longer enough. He couldn't just have a beer he needed a hundred before the emptiness let him relax. He couldn't just have sex, it had to been balls to the wall kinky sex before he got half his former enjoyment out of it.

Yet having met Castiel seemed to change that somehow. He had been having the visons for a while now but things had changed with Castiel.

There was Sam for one… he loved his brother. He didn't used to but now he did. It was confusing. Then there was Cas himself.

"Do you not like being a demon?" Max conjectured.

"I don't know;" Dean admitted not sure where he was going as he said the words. "There's things, there's people, feelings that I want to experience differently than I did before, or maybe even the first time." He acknowledged