A/N: So, hey! This chapter is a flashback chapter; I didn't feel the need to make the entire chapter italicized, so please don't be confused. The flashes back to the present will be italicized. Thanks for reading.
Please review, follow, or favorite this story. I've been working very hard to make it enjoyable. Love you guys ~Bee~
Chapter 6: Love
Castiel walked around the barren apartment, eyes twinkling with pride. His – he and Meg were finally free. He bounced gleefully from foot to foot, smiling at the doorway. Balthazar moaned in resignation when he saw Cas standing just beyond the threshold; Cas giggled in reply. He watched Meg lug a heavy looking suitcase into the apartment, squealing in delight.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, clutching Cas' hand in both of hers. He sighed in amazement at her: this apartment was by no means beautiful. The walls were yellowed – it had the glowing look of a smokers home; the floors were scratched by dogs and the jostling of furniture. Castiel moved deeper into the rinky-dink flat, scanning dubiously. There was a large oil stain in the kitchen, buckling the hardwood. Off the kitchen were two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. Meg claimed the one closest to the kitchen, directly across from the bathroom, reasoning that 'a woman needed constant access to the utilities'. Cas smiled at Balthazar, who stood quietly amidst boxes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his boyfriend closer. The blond nodded, tears filling his eyes. He looked down at the dark haired beauty in his arms, speaking softly, "Will you marry me, Castiel?" his light English accent wavered with emotion. Cas gasped lightly, pulling away just enough for Balthazar to realize his mistake.
"Oh. God. Castiel… Angel… I…" he wandered backwards, drawing a slim gold band from the inner breast pocket of his coat. He set it on a pile of boxes marked 'fragile' and scurried out, muttering something about boxes and loading zones. Castiel thin fingers traced the ring, shaking in incredulity. Balthazar – sweet, beautiful Bal, had just asked to marry him. Castiel was only seventeen – Meg was the sixteen-year-old wonder child. How did he expect Cas to react? Certainly not with a gasp and a step backwards.
Balthazar returned, suitcase in one hand, box of painted linen's in his other, arm wound gently around it. He looked flustered at the sight of Castiel with the ring, and took a prolonged breath. He moved around, Castiel, not looking up from the floor, and into the second bedroom. Castiel followed, ring bound in a closed fist. His arms wrapped around the tall Brit from behind, fingers opening to reveal the gilded band. Tears fell onto it, and Castiel quietly kissed the back of his neck. Balthazar turned, scooping Castiel onto the unmade bed and falling atop him. The ring practically flew from his surprised fingers, but he clutched it tightly, fist drawing Balthazar to his body, rocking against him.
Castiel looked up from his badly written midterm paper, eyes fuzzy from hours of staring at his computer. He watched Meg do her early morning cleaning: sweeping, moping, washing dishes; things she really was genuinely good at. She grinned at him when she caught his eyes watching her body move fluidly around the apartment, running to kiss his forehead gently. Castiel waited patiently for the drumming sound of Dean's car to roar into the lot, hands shaking in nervousness. They'd been sharing stories: today it was his turn.
Castiel peeked from between partially closed lids to watch Meg close his door quietly. Balthazar and he breathed in sleepy unison, their hands interlocked. The bare-chested boys hummed softly to each other's rhythms, fingers dancing. Balthazar trailed his free hand seductively to Castiel's pant-line, running ribbons of pleasure over sensitive skin. Castiel flipped, laying siege to Balthazar's neck with his lips. They gripped each other, Castiel's hand still fist-shaped, the ring pressing a smooth circle into his palm. Balthazar backed away, drawing Cas' fist into his hands.
"I can't." he said softly, not looking at Cas. His mild, yet strong resolution broke into waves of heart wrenched sobs. Cas was at a loss; he knew Balthazar had said he wanted to be married before he 'did the deed', but that was when he was fifteen, still believed in God and wondered why he never lusted after women. Cas had never thought it would continue after he'd come out, after kids at school had spit in his face; after his mother and father had practically beat him senseless. Cas wasn't sure why it was so important, so he asked in a whisper: "Why does it matter so much, Bal?" he whimpered in response, cringing slightly at the sound.
"God made me, Castiel, He made me and He would want me to stay faithful to him, even with a man. That's the whole point – faith. You lost yours, Castiel, my angel, and I am-" Castiel had risen slowly from the bed, opening his hand to gaze at the thin golden band before casting his eyes back to Balthazar.
"You're… trying to convert me?" asked Castiel, astonished. "You're trying to get me to believe again?" Balthazar nodded slightly, pausing before responding with words.
"Yes, Castiel. God still loves you," he whispered. He was sitting up now, hands reaching towards Cas without moving, eyes trying to say beseechingly what he couldn't put into words. Castiel shook his head, violent anger surging up inside him. He lunged forward, knocking Balthazar backwards off the bed. He pounded Bal with his fists, tears spilling from his eyes, sobs breaking from his chest. He hesitated for a moment, hands shaking from adrenaline and pain, and murmured, "Get out. Now. Leave the last of my shit on the curb and get out of my apartment." Balthazar bounced up as soon as Castiel stood, grabbed his shirt and coat, and ran from the flat, lip and nose bleeding. Castiel opened one bruised fist, looking down at the ring.
"Why now, Bal?" he asked softly. He set the ring on the bare bed, and left to retrieve, with Meg, the last of his things.
Castiel looked around the classroom. Most of the students were asleep, having already finished their term papers; Dean was nodding off in the chair at Mr. Deethe's desk, hands slipping off the keyboard. Mr. Deethe chuckled at the sight of twelve or so sleeping students as he reentered the classroom. One bony finger prodded Dean in the arm; he jolted awake, grinning sheepishly at the thin-faced man. Castiel looked back down at his paper, clenching and unclenching his left hand. He managed to type out a few more lines before Dean joined him in the back of the classroom, kissing him gently on the lips. Cas smiled up at him, patting his arm.
Balthazar's dark grey sedan sped out of the parking lot, lights throwing long streaks through Castiel's tears. He massaged his left hand gently, wincing at the pain that radiated up his forearm. Meg was staring at him, but he couldn't seem to collect himself enough to look back at her; he was angry, practically emitting clouds of seething energy. She took his hand, pulling him close and kissing him gently, wide lips caressing his in a way Cas hadn't felt in months. He glanced down at her, confused by this sudden gesture of passion. He'd always felt a deep admiration for the girl who called him her unicorn, protecting him like her life depended on it. There was something indiscernible in her eyes as she reached forward to kiss him again. His hands wrapped around her back, soothing her hair; Castiel kissed her back, feeling pressure build in his chest at the act.
"Wait, " said Cas, drawing back. "Meg, I can't kiss you like this – I don't feel this way for you."
"I know," she whispered, biting her lip. "But can't we just pretend?" Castiel laughed softly, shaking his head – not in denial, but in resigned acceptance. He grabbed the final box, winking at her and racing to the stairs. His heart pounded as he turned to Meg, crashing into her. Their lips slid against each other's, tongues battling. Castiel scooped her up, hands finding the crooks of her thighs. She moaned sharply in pleasure, finding traction in his hair with her hands, and on his neck with her lips. He carried her to her bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. He gazed at her, eyes tiredly sad.
"I can't do this, Megan." he only used her full name when he was angry or disappointed. Her eyes filled with tears, and she stared down at the already made bed. Meg's fingers twisted a loose thread in the dark comforter, hands shaking hard. Castiel walked forward, kneeling against her bed. He kissed her hands, running his fingers up her tan arms. She squirmed, winding backwards onto the bed, dragging a reluctant Castiel with her. He groaned in an upset way, hands dancing around the situation. She tugged at his shirt, prying the thin, ill-fitting cotton from his belted hips. He struggled away from her, using the little bit of strength he had left to stop Meg from undoing his belt.
"Stop." he murmured sharply, sounding harsher than he'd originally intended to. Meg jumped backwards, hands gathering in the blanket. The sixteen year old looked at her counterpart, his sympathetic eyes gazing at her in pity. She begged him with her looks for his hands and mouth to do things they simply weren't meant to do. He stood, trying to back away. "Meg, I love you, so much – but this… this isn't right." he sighed. "I can't do this to you."
Castiel lifted his head at the sound of the bell, cringing at the thought of having to relive that story again. He whisked his things into his bag, scurrying away from Dean and to the bathroom. He ran into the stall, locking it behind him and leaning his head back against the wall. His heart pounded in his chest – he wanted Dean to know this. He just didn't know how the man he absolutely loved was going to react.
Meg looked at Cas, crawling towards him. She mewled softly, drawing her fingers into circles on her dark sheets. His eyes rolled back slightly, pants tightening in the crotch. He knew, deep in his heart, he wouldn't be proud of himself in the morning if he slept with Meg. They were the best of friends; he didn't want to ruin that. She lifted his shirt, fingers wrapping around his belt loop, pulling him towards her. She kissed his stomach, tracing the edge of his belt with her tongue. He unbuckled it, unbuttoning his pants and yanking them off roughly. He whipped off his shirt, throwing it across the room. He pulled her up to him, lips colliding harshly with her own soft ones, she let out a sharp breath, teeth grabbing onto his bottom lip. He pulled her shirt off, tugging her pants and bra off, leaving her in dark, lace panties. She groaned in pleasure as he threw her backwards onto the bed, kissing down her neck, down her chest, to the hem of the lace. Her fingers clutched his hair, tightly grabbing the thin, short fibers. He moaned when she tugged gently. Castiel, in all of his seventeen years, had only fucked on other woman – it had confirmed his suspicion of homosexuality. So why was he doing this? Why was he pawing at Meg's flesh, letting her draw him in with her seductive sounds and the smell of her skin? It didn't matter anymore – he was. He sat up, pulling Meg towards him; fingers pacing their way down her elegantly curved form, one hand bunched in her mass of curly hair. They kissed, gentle tongues and hands like water. They continued on this way for a while, trembling together.
Castiel was shameful at this memory – but it was something he had to share with Dean. He looked over at him, car filled with smoke from their cigarettes. He smiled, eyes glistening with tears. Dean cocked his head to the side, looking at Castiel. They both leaned forward at the same time, kissing hard. It had started to snow.
A/N: So, this chapter is actually incomplete. Because of guidelines set down by the creators of this site, I can't actually post this chapter as a whole, because they'll remove it for a rather vulgar sex scene. It's going up on wattpad as soon as I finish writing it, so check it out there. I'll put a link in my profile. Love you guys ~Bee~