We Got This Confession We Just Need For You To Sign
"Castiel! Welcome!" called a tall man with dark skin and a smile that beckoned Castiel to return it just as brightly.
"Reverend Michael," he reached out a hand to shake.
"Just Michael, please, we don't stand on a lot of ceremony here in the flock. One believer is as valued as the next."
Castiel smiled at that, the familiar language sending a shiver down his spine. But these aren't his parents. This isn't his family or the extended congregation. These aren't the people who… It would just take him some time to find his footing. He'd done it at seminary. He could do it here.
Michael was still talking, telling Castiel about Church of Divine Light and how he'd taken over the congregation about five years ago and had built up their numbers since then. He seemed genuinely proud of the programs he'd brought into the community, like a soup kitchen.
"I'd like to get even more programs up and running, which is why you're here. A youth ministry is next on my list. Have you don't youth ministry before?"
Castiel followed Michael through the modest church, taking in the bright light shining through the stained glass until they exited the sanctuary and returned to the more office style space. Michael's office was small and all four walls were lined with books. It was all Castiel could do to not run his fingers over them. If he were guilty of idol worship, it would be at the altar of knowledge.
Castiel closed the door and they sat on opposite sides of the small desk.
"Mr. Novak, I'm not going to lie. When I heard you were going to be assigned here, I looked into your background. Not exactly typical."
"No, Sir. But I'm glad to be here now."
"It will be a good influence on our congregation to have someone with your upbringing around, especially on the kids." Something distant behind Michael's eyes rang familiar. "This town is full of those who pulled them off the righteous path. But you coming here, it's a sign that we're on the right track. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it's not random; it's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly."
Castiel nodded and stayed silent. He knew better than to interrupt men like this.
"How are things going at the Winchester place?" Michael asked, staring at him like he was seeking out the secret Castiel kept buried in his soul, wrapped in his own burial shroud.
"Fine."
"Dean isn't being difficult, is he?"
"No, he's been quite accommodating. What kind of difficulty do you anticipate?" Castiel tilted his head, widening his eyes, and putting on his most earnest face.
"Dean is an outlier. He's happier surrounding himself with those who would pervert him. I've tried to reach out to him," Michael shook his head, "but I simply can't reach him. Perhaps you'll be a good influence on him too."
"I hope so," Castiel smiled, hearing all the little attacks on Dean that Michael coded into his language. He knew everyone. He'd been the receiver of every single one.
After that, Michael took him to the church office to fill out paperwork and promised to see him tomorrow. He'd be introducing Castiel to the congregation during the next day's service and as much as he had reservations about the Reverend, he was looking forward to meeting more people in the community.
When he finished, he hopped into the Ford pickup Dean had loaned him and drove straight to Charlie's. It was later than he'd hoped. 5:30. Everyone had been gathering at five, so they could spend time together and order food before starting the movies, but now Castiel was going to be the last one there. His palms sweat. God, he hated this, walking into an unknown situation with unknown people.
He wished Dean was here with him. That way, he'd walk in knowing someone.
Castiel opened the car door and climbed the stairs up to the front door of an adorable little white house. It had spindles along the porch and everything. He could hear the laughter inside and smiled. He'd longed his whole life to be a part of something like this, to be included. But it was never an option. His brothers were cruel, alternating between picking on him and ostracising him for being so different. His only friend had been his sister.
Could this be a place where he could be himself? He wanted it to be but knew he had to hold part of himself back, always holding part of himself back. A life where he could work in the church and come to see friends like this would always be out of reach. But maybe for a night, he could pretend it was his.
He knocked on the door and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons before a beautiful woman, almost his height, with raven black hair and bright red lips, opened the door.
"Yes?" She said with a low flat voice.
"Um, hi, uh, is Charlie here?" panic flared in his chest. Was he at the wrong house? Had he not actually been invited?
"Stop fucking with him, Dot!" Charlie's head appeared peeking out from behind the beautiful woman. "Cas, I'm so glad you're here! We ordered pizza. I hope that's okay! Come in!"
She shoved Dot out of the way with her hip and reached out to grab Castiel's hands. "Come in. Relax!" She pushed him into the living room as a laughing Dot closed the door.
The most haphazard grouping of people was congregated in the living room. Men and women, all standing close with arms around each other and sitting on laps. Laughter and harmless bickering surrounded him.
"This had your name on it," Dean's deep voice said close to his side, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Castiel turned to find Dean, his hair shorter and beard trimmed close to the side of his face, still full along his jawline, making him look devastatingly handsome. He held out a tumbler of whiskey with three fingers in it. "It's better than the stuff we had last night," Dean winked.
Castiel shrugged out of his tan trenchcoat and black suit jacket, pulling the tie hanging loose around his neck off, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that showed more chest than he usually allowed, and slim-fitting black pants. He took his drink, fingers brushing against Dean's. He flushed and took a sip. "Yeah, that's smooth."
He couldn't tear his eyes from Dean's lips.
"Damn," Meg cooed as she came from another room. "Is this what choir boys look like where you come from?"
"I was never in the choir," Castiel said, with no intention of making a joke, but she laughed anyway.
"Come on," Dean wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder and pulled him against his side. His warmth was like the sun, soothing and bright, but if he allowed himself to touch it or look too long, he'd undoubtedly get burned. Castiel stepped away far enough for Dean to drop his arm.
"Everyone, this is Cas," Dean announced, pulling all eyes in his direction, making Castiel want to duck and hide away, bury his face against Dean's chest. "Castiel, this is my brother Sammy-"
-"Sam," a tall man interjected.
"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes. "His wife, Eileen-"
"Hello," Eileen said with a familiar tone to her voice.
Nice to meet you, Castiel signed.
"I like him," Eileen said, winking before pushing her way back out of the room to get a drink.
"Over there are Kevin, Joe, and Benny."
A collection of odd but happy people smiled and waved.
"And of course you know Meg, who somehow managed to get invited despite claiming to despise all of us."
"Well, not all of you," Meg sauntered back to Castiel's side.
"You missed Claire and Kaya, though."
"Oh, yeah," Charlie perched on the arm of the couch next to Benny. "Claire works for me on the weekends and stopped by on her way out with Kaya to give me the keys after locking up. " She clutched her hands to her heart. "I love my little gaybees so much."
"Your what?" Castiel asked, earning a chuckle from Dean along with an elbow in his ribs.
"My baby gays. It's incumbent on all elder queers to take on the nourishment and education of young rainbow babies. You know, the ones without a supportive family or a safe place to be themselves. Claire's family is religious, and not the cuddly kind like you Cas, the fire and brimstone kind."
"I'm familiar with that brand, yes. What gives you the impression I'm cuddly?" Castiel tilted his head in question, only to find Charlie lifting her eyebrows and nodding to Dean. When he turned around, the taller man's cheeks were flushed.
"Pizza's here!" Dot announced, opening the door and running out. Activity broke out all around Castiel as everyone moved to find a seat, grab plates and drinks, and generally get ready for the fun to start.
He found himself nestled on a small couch between Dean and Eileen. Sam had settled onto the floor between Eileen's legs, where he had a plate with four pieces of pepperoni pizza.
"He eats half our pizza budget," Dean stage whispered to Castiel.
"That's why I pitch in twice as much money as you tight-wads."
"Jerk."
"Bitch," Sam smiled up at his brother, wide and open and full of half-chewed pizza.
"Jesus, Sam! What are you, nine?" Dean laughed and leaned over Castiel's lap to slap his brother on the back of the head. When he sat pack up, his hand lingered on Castiel's thigh for just enough longer than he should have to make Castiel lose his ability to breathe.
"What do you want?" Dean asked him as Charlie pulled up the Netflix Menu and scrolled through the movies.
"Wh... What?" Castiel's brain had officially stopped working.
"Pizza. I'll get yours too. Just tell me what you want."
It seemed a little rude to blurt out what he really wanted, so he asked for plain cheese—just one piece.
Dean raised his eyebrows, "Growing boy like you? You're never going to fill out if you don't eat."
"I'm 32, Dean. If I haven't filled out by now, I don't think I'm going to."
Dean nodded and looked away, but not before running his eyes over Castiel's body and licking his lips.
This man is going to be the literal ruin of him. Fire and Brimstone indeed.
Charlie plugged in John Wick and turned off the lights. The movie was beautifully shot and deliciously irreverent. Castiel had never seen anything like it before. So much passion and pain and violence all mixed together in the story of a righteous man. He couldn't stop himself from crying when the lead let the puppy up on his bed.
Dean did lay his hand on his thigh for a moment then, patting it and giving him a squeeze. Castiel was thankful for the grounding touch.
As the movie progressed and moved further into the fantastical, Castiel let his hand drop next to him, so his knuckles glanced across the back of Dean's hand. The rough touch sparked in his gut, a guilty pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless. He let himself trail his touch along the back of Dean's hand. Slow, gentle. A ghost touch that might not have been there at all, except they both knew it was.
Castiel let out a stuttering breath.
Dean moved his foot so it pressed against the side of Castiel's boot.
Castiel moved his knee so his thigh pressed against Dean's, their hands now laying in the space between their thighs, fingers intertwined in a backward kind of handhold. His heart beat hard like he'd run miles, chased by his brothers. But when Dean shifted his hand, turning it over in Cas's and holding it properly, that's when he forgot how to breathe altogether.
When the movie ended, he released Dean's hand and sat up, distancing himself from the other man, who looked at him with a frown.
"So what did you think?" Charlie asked, practically bouncing in her seat. Dot was wrapped around her, like a lazy lap snake.
"We've all seen it like a million times," Meg rolled her eyes.
"Not all of us!" Charlie stared at Castiel, clearly expecting an in-depth analysis of her movie selection.
"The righteous will rejoice when he sees the vengeance; he will bathe his feet in the blood of the wicked."
"What?" Charlie squinted at him.
"Psalm 58:10," Castiel clarified, confident they would all see what he did. "It's funny."
"Holy shit, man, you can just like, pull bible quotes out of your ass?" Benny chimed in, eyes wide.
"Give him a break. He's in seminary school," Dean said with a shrug.
"It's just called seminary. You don't add the school part, Dean." Sam chided with a smirk.
"Don't think you're too old for me to kick your ass," Dean leaned forward, closer to his brother's taunting face.
"Not too old, but definitely too big." At that, Dean lunged forward, tackling Sam to the ground. Both Castiel and Eileen pulled their feet up onto the couch as the crowd laughed. Someone even started throwing popcorn. Dean threw a leg over his brother's hip and flipped him onto his back, where he was able to get him in a headlock. But Sam was right about being bigger. He used his height and bulk to throw Dean back, landing on him and earning a breathy grunt from his brother. The two scuffled for a few more minutes before Dean managed to get his knee on Sam's neck.
"All right, all right!" Eileen said and signed. "I would like him back in one piece, please!"
The laughter died down and Charlie queued up John Wick II.
"Okay, but just one more. Cas has to be up for church in the morning." Dean sat back down, a little closer to Castiel this time, and draped his arm over the back of the couch. In his reach, he took full advantage of the opportunity to stick his finger in Eileen's ear, earning a screech and another smack from Sam.
"If you can't behave, I'll make you sit next to Meg," Charlie scolded.
"Hey!" Meg threw a pillow at her as the movie began.
Castiel couldn't keep track of the plot of the movie at all. He was pretty sure it was due to the way Dean's fingers danced across his shoulder and collar bone. The rest of him didn't move and the touches were light enough that if Castiel shifted, it would be over, but he didn't. He found he couldn't pull himself away. Not the way he knew he should.
Instead, he kept his hands on his lap, using every ounce of self-control not to lay his hand on Dean's thigh the way the other man had touched him. He breathed through his mouth, not caring if anyone heard the panting sounds over the thankfully loud movie.
Dean's fingers traced the line of his neck, feeling the muscle and running the pads of his fingers across his flesh. Heat flashed across his skin, sending flames out from everywhere Dean touched. Castiel moved his hands to his lap and pressed against the growing erection that threatened to take away all ability to think with reason.
"You look good in a suit," he whispered against the edge of Castiel's ear, making his whole body break out in shivers. He closed his eyes. He didn't know how long he sat shaking in the dark, having lost all interest in the movie.
When it was over, Castiel was hanging on by a thread, teetering on the edge of a heart attack.
"Any insightful quotes for this one?" Dot asked as she flipped off the television, Charlie fast asleep against her shoulder.
"I'm afraid not. I think the first one still applies."
"And will apply to the third!" Meg laughed, jolting Charlie out of her sleep.
"Where is it? Where's the bunny?" she slurred, making everyone laugh.
Everyone gathered trash and then tumbled out of the house. It wasn't really that late but their brains were numb from so many hours of John Wick in a row. Dean walked close to Castiel and when they got to the car, he placed his hand on his lower back.
"You wanna ride with me? Leave the car here? I can drive you back into town in the morning."
"No, I'm fine to drive," Castiel noted but didn't let himself think about the brief look of disappointment in Dean's eyes.
"Okay, you know the way?"
"I think so, plus I can follow you. You can stop worrying." Castiel grinned, and for a brief moment, imagined what it would be like to lean up and place a reassuring kiss on Dean's cheek.
Dean stepped away but was stopped by Benny. He was almost as tall as Dean but half again as wide. All muscle and smiles. The man couldn't keep his hands off Dean. An arm around the shoulder, a whisper in the ear, a hand cupping his cheek.
Castiel hated it.
He climbed into his truck, put on the GPS and took off, not waiting to see if Dean was behind him. He'd get home when he got home.
The little log cabin was warm, and Garth greeted Castiel with a solid lean against the leg. He leaned down and hugged the warm creature, happy for the comfort. After letting the dog out and grabbing himself another glass of whiskey, he slipped into his room, intending to change his clothes, but once in there, he couldn't stop moving.
He paced his tiny room until it became claustrophobic and he had to go out into the main room where he paced the length of the entire cabin. His mind was full of incomplete thoughts paired with the memory of Dean's hand on his thigh, his fingers against his neck, his breath on his ear.
Castiel throbbed.
At no other time in his life had he wanted so desperately. He was so careful, stayed away from temptation, kept himself busy, devoted himself to doing good, and bringing love. And after barely 48 hours with Dean, his body felt like he had been doused with a completely new kind of flame.
By the time Dean got home, Castiel was raging. He had no words for what he felt. It was all new and terrifying and wonderful and absolutely wholly impossible.
Dean opened the door and stopped when he saw Castiel's face. He shut the door behind him, ignored a bouncing Garth, and instead of saying anything, poured himself some whiskey and topped off Castiel's glass.
Castiel downed it like a shot and held his glass up for another.
Dean raised an eyebrow in question before pouring it, earning himself a withering stare.
This time, Castiel sipped it and sighed.
"Better?" Dean asked before tipping back his glass.
"I don't know yet." Castiel's voice was low and husky.
When he looked at Dean, the man's eyes were wide, his pupils blocking out most of the green usually found there. He licked his lips and stepped toward Castiel.
"Cas, you gotta, you gotta be clear with me." Dean stammered, finishing his drink and setting the glass down on the coffee table.
"I've never been anything but honest with you."
"I believe you, but your signals are kind of all over the place. One second you're doing everything you can to avoid looking at me after I tell you I'm gay, which I gotta say, still isn't the easiest thing to do, and the next, you look like you're about to climb on my lap and have your way with me. So which is it? I'm not pressuring you one way or the other. I just… I gotta know what I'm dealing with here."
Castiel took a sip of his drink and held Dean's eyes.
"Tonight during the movie…" Dean started and then stopped, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to catch his breath.
"You were touching me," Castiel whispered.
"You didn't pull away."
"I didn't want to." The words were out before he could stop them. The truth was something he had never been good at hiding. He drained his glass and set it down next to Dean's
"Do you want me to touch you now?" Dean asked, taking a step forward. His movements restrained, but the passion in his eyes was wild. A beast that once unleashed Castiel didn't know if he would survive. "Cas, can I touch you now?"
Castiel sucked in a breath and nodded.
Dean stepped in front of him, and instead of grabbing him roughly, the way Castiel had imagined, he placed a flat palm on the center of his chest and wrapped his other hand around the back of Castiel's neck, pulling him forward so their foreheads were barely touching.
It was strangely intimate, standing there, bodies millimeters from touching, just breathing together.
"God, Cas, I've never met anyone like you before," Dean said. He stepped closer, planting a foot between Castiel's and pressing the lengths of their bodies together.
Castiel could feel the thickness of Dean's erection against his hip and felt his half-hard cock plump up. Dean wanted him. That idea alone was enough to throw Castiel over the edge of reason.
He grabbed the sides of Dean's face and pulled him into his lips. Hard and demanding, Castiel wrapped around the other man, his hands stroking his beard and arms and back, gripping him and holding on tight.
"Fuck, Cas." Dean kissed him back, no longer tender and unsure. He nipped at Castiel's lower lip, pulling on it and pressing for entrance with his tongue until they were engulfed with the taste and scent of each other.
Dean grabbed Castiel's ass, pulling him closer, while Castiel slid his hands under the hem of Dean's shirt, letting his fingers run along his hard stomach and up to his thick pecs. He felt like everything Castiel ever dreamed of touching. His skin smooth, the soft smattering of hair rough against his fingers.
Castiel let out a moan when Dean rocked his body forward, rutting against his erection, delivering delicious friction.
"Jesus, God." Dean moaned, moving his lips down to Castiel's neck.
But Castiel had frozen in place. Reminded of who he was. Of what he was.
He pulled back, taking his hands off Dean, and stepping out of reach. "I'm sorry."
He left Dean standing there alone as he retreated to his tiny room, where he sat on the floor, his back against the door, and cried. The blackness just beneath the earth reaching up to capture him and steal his soul.