Work Text:
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean demanded furiously as he stomped through the door of the building that, like all the other buildings around it, was quickly falling into disrepair. He quickly looked around outside before securing the door behind him. “We’re here for supplies not to play tourist.” It was just the two of them on this run, and when he’d looked up to discover his companion gone he’d panicked.
“There’s no reason to be so anxious, Dean. My grace may have faded drastically, but I can still sense a Croat in the vicinity. They seem to be concentrated on the East side of the city today, for whatever reason.” Castiel sat in one of the pews at the front of the old church he’d found, elbows resting on his knees, chin balanced on his hands which were folded as if in prayer. He stared ahead at the bare altar. The large crucifix that had once hung behind it had been torn down and was in pieces on the stone floor.
“Yeah, and how much longer do you think you’ll be able to manage even that much?” Dean asked tersely as he looked around. He noticed Castiel’s lips had thinned and the almost former Angel remained silent in response. Dean felt chastened but didn’t apologise. Instead, he cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on his gun before reluctantly taking a seat next to his best friend… His only friend, actually, in this post-Apocalyptic existence they’d found themselves trapped in.
The two sat in a stilted yet companionable silence.
“Dean, I want you to fuck me,” Castiel intoned. Dean’s head whipped around in surprise, unsure if he’d heard correctly. Castiel turned to meet his wide-eyed gaze with his own steady one.
“Wh-”
“Here.”
Dean blinked, an expression of pure disbelief on his face. “Here?”
“Well, up there on the altar, actually,” Castiel tilted his head in the direction he’d indicated.
Dean was silent before choking out “Why?”
Castiel sighed and turned back to the altar in question. “I am a being created of pure celestial intent. I once was capable of travelling the entire universe. Once… more… than this…” Dean could only stare at the lost looking creature beside him. “They prayed to me… There was once a time where humans actually prayed. To me… I was once important.”
Dean pursed his lips. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Sounds kinda ritualistic.”
Castiel’s own lips quirked. “Yeah. Almost sacrificial.”
Dean shrugged and looked at his friend with a consideration he had never allowed himself before. “Well, I’m not going to fuck you dry,” he stated bluntly. “And I sure as hell ain’t gonna use spit.”
“I picked this up earlier,” Castiel smirked as he produced a bottle of lubricant from bag on the pew next to him. Dean eyed the bottle with a small bit of trepidation. If he complied things would change. Their dynamics would change. “I’m not asking for fidelity.” Castiel’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up into those blue eyes he’d long become accustomed to. “I’m just asking for you, Dean.” He pressed the bottle into the former hunter’s hand and stood, removing his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head. Dean watched as he shed his clothing, tossing them onto the pew, until he stood completely nude. Castiel gazed into Dean’s eyes once more. “Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant me what I hope for…”
Dean swallowed thickly. He recognized those words. As a child he’d managed to memorize the bible from start to finish. For a long time it offered the only bedtime stories he could give Sammy growing up, until he’d managed to swipe some actual children’s books from various second hand shops. It had been an easier task than he’d thought. There was a bible in every motel room, after all. The last place he’d ever expected to hear someone quoting it, however, was here… now… And the jolt in his veins proved that he actually didn’t mind in the slightest… He stood and removed his own jacket and shirt. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” He removed his jeans and shoes and socks and stood equally nude before his Angel.
Castiel let out a shuddering breath and practically fell forward, wrapping himself around Dean. They held onto each other and kissed deeply, feverously. Dean pulled away long enough to snatch the bottle of lube from where he’d left it on the pew behind him. Quicker than either of them realized, Castiel was laid out on his back on the altar and Dean was, as carefully and quickly as he could manage, working him open. He kissed the Angel’s abdomen as he twisted and scissored his fingers. “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’.”
Castiel gasped and opened his legs farther. He groaned filthily when Dean rubbed against his prostate. “D-Dean! Please!”
Dean scissored and rotated his finger a couple more times before he removed them and lubed up his hardened cock and pressed the head against Castiel’s stretched hole. He pressed forward until the head was passed the ring and paused.
Castiel bit his lower lip, and grunted. The intrusion hurt a little more than he’d originally anticipated. He breathed through it and forced himself to relax, grasping hold of Dean’s forearm as the man braced it next to Castiel’s hip. Dean’s voice washed over him, anchoring him.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
He relaxed and wrapped one of his legs around Dean’s waist, beginning to guide the man forward, into him.
Dean took his cue and slowly slid in until he was fully seated inside Cas. Castiel leaned up until their foreheads were pressed against one another. They simply breathed in the same air for a few precious moments.
In a soft tone, Castiel recited, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
Dean pulled out until just the head of his cock remained inside Cas. “‘Come now, let us settle the matter,’ says the LORD.” He thrust forward, earning a loud, gasping, moan from the Angel’s mouth. “‘Though your sins are like scarlet…” Again. “They shall be as white as snow…” And again. “Though they are red as crimson…” And Again. “They shall be like wool.’”
Castiel reached up and wrapped one arm behind Dean’s head and the other arm around his back. He gasped into Dean’s ear. “The Lord our God is merciful a-and forgiving, even though-ough we have rebelled against him. Oh, fuck, Dean!”
Dean pressed a sloppy kiss to the shoulder in front of him. “Repent, then, and turn to God… so that your sins may be… wiped out, fuck yes, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord…”
Castiel dropped back to lay flat against the altar, arms thrown above his head as Dean thrust into him. “So do not fear, f-for I am with you; hmm… do not be dismayed, for- for I am your God.” He gasped. “I will strengthen you and hel-help you; fuck, I will uphold you with my-” He groaned, nearing the apex of his swiftly and continuously building arousal. “Righteous right hand.” He let out a long, low moan as Dean managed to nail his prostate with nearly every other thrust. He came in spurts, coating both his and Dean’s chests with his pearly white fluid.
Dean leaned down bit down on the Angel’s neck. “You are my refuge and my shield;” He spoke into Cas’ neck, breathing and gasping. “I have put my hope in your word… A-away from me, you evildoers… that I may-” His thrusts stuttered as he neared climax. “May keep the commands of my God! Oh, Cas!” He came hard, ejaculating deep inside Castiel.
They clung to each other for a while after, coming down from their sex induced high. When they regained control of their lungs and other muscles they pulled away from each other and cleaned themselves up. Before putting their jackets back on, Castiel came up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist.
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord,” he spoke into his human’s shoulder. Dean held his wrists and they stood, pressed together, for a time.
They returned to the compound with the supplies they’d gathered as thought nothing had changed. But nothing had remained the same.
—30—