Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter One

In the affairs of this world,
men are saved not by faith,
but by the want of it.
-Benjamin Franklin

Castiel Novak was not a stranger to the world although he would consider himself somewhat of a novice on things that most people found important. For example he wasn’t up to date on television shows and he preferred classical music over anything else. Sitting quietly with a good book and a cup of tea sounded like a nice afternoon to him while others would probably disagree. His people skills weren’t amazing but he was always being told what a good listener he was and what a large heart he had. He cared about people and just wanted them to be happy. And if he could ease their pain in any way he felt good afterwards.

If he hadn’t joined the priesthood he figured he would have become a social worker or doctor; something that dealt closely with healing or just being a friendly shoulder to lean on.

It was odd to like people and yet not really understand them but he supposed he got an A for effort.

For him being a priest was about having faith and loving God, two things that he’d done most of his life. After losing his parents at a young age his older siblings—who became his legal guardians—thought it was very important to keep up the traditions and teachings their parents had instituted all of their lives. Religion had been as much a part of his day as learning about history and math. They said grace, they said their prayers and they attended church services every Sunday. They were also expected to confess their sins and to pray for absolution. While several of his older brothers soon grew tired of such a strict regime he’d never exactly minded. Believing in something bigger than himself that looked out for him was comforting, not stifling.

Though he suspected he would have reacted differently had he been extremely interested in girls and sex like Gabriel and Balthazar. Such interest would have led to perhaps a more normal life but it wasn’t like he had a bad life. He’d had everything he’d needed. Maybe not the emotional support other families thrived on but the Novaks had not operated that way even before his parents died. Besides being a twin meant he was never truly alone.

Well…

Sighing deeply, Castiel pulled at the white collar around his neck and stared at the ornate painted glass windows of his church. The pew was hard and cold underneath him, the area quiet save for a few people whispering to themselves with their heads lowered. An elderly woman was clutching her rosary in one hand while lighting candles with the other, her lips moving with the same phrase over and over again. Usually someone would be fidgeting beside him with the need to talk but they were giving him a bit of space and had been for at least three days now. He was thankful. He honestly wasn’t sure he would have been able to soothe their souls when his own was in utter turmoil.

Castiel belonged to a big family. He was the second youngest of eight children with his little sister Hester being the baby. And yet the only one who had kept in touch regularly was his twin sister Anna. Growing up they’d been the best of friends, though Anna had been carefree and popular while he’d mostly kept to a select group of friends. Maybe it was that often talked about twin bond but Castiel had always felt like he could tell her anything and she would understand no matter what. In fact she’d been the first person he’d confessed being attracted to boys to. And she had hugged him tight and told him everything was going to be alright.

But that was Anna. Sweet and usually wearing a big pair of rose colored glasses even though she hadn’t had the easiest life. Pregnant at a relatively young age while not being married; she’d found judgment from their elder brother and sister while not having many of the options other women had because of their religious beliefs. Well because Michael and Naomi would have never consented to an abortion even if she’d been thinking about having one. In the end however she had managed to raise her child and attend college where she met the man she later married. Together they had three more wonderful children.

Swallowing hard, he bit into his bottom lip to keep the tears at bay. He didn’t want members of his parish to see him crying—they had issues of their own that they were dealing with. Not to mention Father Uriel would consider it unseemly. It was just hard to rein in his emotions when the one person he typically talked to about his problems wasn’t there anymore. It was bad to say—especially because of his profession—but he just couldn’t talk to God this time. His faith was unfortunately on very rocky ground at the moment.

Faith. It was a word Castiel was quite familiar with, one that he talked about at great length to many people. At its core faith was a belief in something bigger than yourself whether it be God or something else entirely. It was a feeling, something you couldn’t see or touch but just knew existed because the very thought of it filled you with a sense of peace. Faith was a powerful thing and when it was shaken even a little bit, well, some people never recovered.

As a priest Castiel had a close relationship with God but lately he was finding it difficult to continue believing. Much like when a child discovered there was no actual Santa Claus, he felt thrown for a loop. Those feelings mixed with the overwhelming grief slowly consuming his nights and days left him exhausted and questioning everything he once felt to be one hundred percent true. He knew that bad things happened to good people all the time but when it hit so close to home that saying lost its meaning. It left him wondering why. Why did bad things have to happen to good people? Or any people for that matter?

Why was there so much suffering?

Uriel told him that it was all a part of God’s plan and that questioning it was not their place. They were supposed to uphold the tenants of the church and lead the wayward back into the arms of the Lord. Yet he didn’t think he could lead anyone with such a dark cloud hanging over his head. He wasn’t certain he wanted to and that scared him. He loved the church and he loved serving God but what frequently brought him tranquility just wasn’t working right now. Left him with more questions than answers like why was his sister and her entire family dead while murderers and rapists remained?

God works in mysterious ways.

Indeed.

The horrible continued their reign of terror while other things would just stop. Anna used to send him pictures every holiday or birthday of her children with funny little notes on the back. Now there would be no more pictures, just an empty house full of memories like ash stains on his fingertips, so easy to erase. Six lives snuffed out in the blink of an eye; a deep connection instantly terminated because some man refused to let the bartender call him a cab home. Castiel knew they were in Heaven and happy with his parents but that only brought him a small amount of solace.

He just felt so alone…even with God supposedly with him.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bleak if Uriel were willing to talk with him about his grief but there was a reason people chose him over Father Uriel when they needed a friendly, understanding ear. Uriel tended to be more about the fire and brimstone side of the Lord rather than his forgiving nature. He could deliver a sermon about eternal damnation if you didn’t live a righteous life with more zeal than was necessary, it was the gentler side he could never put into inspiring words.

Castiel knew he could always visit another parish to seek council with another priest but he knew what they were going to say because once upon a time he’d probably said the same thing. He’d consoled more than one person suffering through grief and on a technical level he realized things would eventually get better. At the current moment however he was just angry and devastated that his sister had been taken away from him. That he would never see her again or hear her full belly laugh when something really amused her. And it didn’t help that his other siblings weren’t trying to offer any kind of support. Gabriel hadn’t even attended the funeral.

No. He didn’t need soft placated words about plans and better places. Honestly he wasn’t sure what he needed.

The bar was called Billy’s Pub and Castiel had passed it once or twice on the way to the farmer’s market what with it not being a part of his direct route and everything. As far as he knew none of his parishioners frequented there and that was why he was able to walk aside—dressed as a civilian—after sitting in his old car for a full fifteen minutes. Why he was able to sit down at the bar and order a beer. He wasn’t much of a social drinker and preferred wine if he must but he also didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.

In all honesty he wasn’t sure why he was even there but seeing as how none of his other coping techniques were working he was willing to try whatever irregular idea that popped into his head. Perhaps just sitting in a room with a bunch of people who didn’t know him would somehow make him feel better. He wouldn’t have to suffer their looks of pity or know that they were whispering about him behind his back. He could be just like everyone else.

Country music was twanging from an old juke box in the corner and a group of laughing men and women were playing pool near the bathrooms. At the very end of the bar was a couple engaged in an intimate conversation; the female swirling her straw around and around in her tall glass. Castiel vaguely wondered what they were talking about. If they had came together or just met. Before becoming a priest he’d never really been able to connect with people. Naomi told him it was because of his fierce intelligence but he always chalked it up to being an old soul. It was hard to have a conversation with a bunch of teenagers when you’d rather talk about Russian literature than the latest reality show.

Talking about God and religion though came easy to him. As did wanting to believe the best in people. So far the only thing he’d been able to do was forgive the man that had taken his sister away from him. Martin Palmer would never walk again and was currently awaiting trial, and Castiel prayed for him with utter sincerity. After all alcoholism was a demon in its own right and blaming him for vehicular homicide—while truthful—wouldn’t bring Anna back. His ultimate punishment would be living with what he’d done. If he were indeed a good man that had made a bad choice, it would be something he carried with him for the rest of his life. Castiel didn’t feel it was cruel or out of place to hope he did.

Grasping the cold bottle with both hands, Castiel peeled at the white label and idly thought about his childhood. While stricter than most he’d been happy. His parents died when he was four and Michael had immediately stepped up to assume responsibility of him and the others, with Naomi’s help of course and that of their wonderful neighbors. Castiel still wasn’t certain how Michael had managed but somehow he had. Granted not all of the Novaks turned out to be upstanding citizens—especially not in Michael’s eyes—but things could have been worse. They were all mostly successful in their chosen careers; Gabriel and Balthazar the self appointed black sheep of the family. They were no blacker than Lucifer however.

But the point was that he hadn’t wanted for many things. And Michael had not been cruel even if because of his upbringing he judged what he didn’t understand quite harshly. Such as homosexually. After explaining to his family his feelings for young men Michael had deduced he was gay and suggested very strongly that he join the priesthood. Homosexually on its own was not acceptable but with Castiel’s “affliction”…as he’d often called it? Well it was a sentence straight to Hell as far as he was concerned. Balthazar thought him mad but Castiel had—at least—been able to realize his outspoken-ness on the subject came from a place of love. Not wanting to hurt the man who’d basically raised him…he’d joined the priesthood.

There were no regrets over his decision. He was doing God’s work and helping people but he would be lying if he said he didn’t get lonely. No more so than he was right now. Others had the luxury of family to get them through tough times but he did not.

Not anymore.

“Hey. Anyone sitting here?”

Castiel started and blinked at the man suddenly standing beside him. He was gorgeous for lack of a better word; tall and tan and currently flashing a rather charming smile with delectably plump lips. Castiel had seen attractive men before but never one like this, one so effortlessly beautiful. His eyes were bright green and sparkling with amusement out from under long thick lashes. He had a perfect profile; a strong jaw with a slender nose and slight scruff. It was a little un-nerving to be honest, or at least the warm pleasant feeling this stranger’s looks caused in his stomach was a little un-nerving.

It was something Castiel hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager.

Realizing he’d been asked a question and yet never replied, he slowly shook his head. “No it’s…vacant.”

The stranger chuckled and perched on the leather stool, sitting his own beer on the bar in front of him. “Good thing I don’t have a bad leg. Guy could fall over waitin’ for you to state the obvious.”

Castiel snorted. “I wasn’t aware you needed my exact permission to sit down in a public place.”

Green eyes smirked with a small shrug. “Wanted to make sure you were okay with me gettin’ in your personal space. Some guys will punch you for that shit.”

Castiel nodded. That actually made sense. “I do not mind.”

“Cool. I’m Dean by the way.” The newly named Dean held out a hand to be shook.

“Fa—Castiel. My name is Castiel.” He said shaking the offered hand, finding it to be warm if a bit work rough. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Dean took a sip of his beer and Castiel tried not to stare at the way his lips hugged the top. “So Castiel, what brings you out this time of night?”

Castiel considered his answer. “I just…wanted to go somewhere where no one knew who I was. I have a lot on my mind and I’m having difficulty sorting out my thoughts.”

Dean hummed. “Sounds heavy. This a relationship kinda thing? Cause I gotta tell you I’m not much for chick flick moments.”

Castiel smiled. “No. It’s…family related.”

Dean grinned easily. “Ah family I do know. They get on your nerves and you wanna smack them most of the time, but if anyone else tries to smack them you see red. Funny how that works.”

His words made Castiel chuckle. “My brothers and sisters could always take care of themselves.”

Dean tapped his fingers on the bar. “Mine too but that’s not the point and you know it. Only we can mess with our family. When outsiders do it—well it’s stupid.”

True. “Are you close to your family?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah…for the most part. My little brother and I are pretty close, and I’m close to my mom. Still go to hers for Sunday dinner sometimes, that kinda thing.”

Castiel wondered what a normal family dinner was like. He hadn’t participated in one for many years now and it wasn’t easy for the Novaks to spend time together. Michael used them as reports on their progress with their life goals. “May I ask you a question?”

Turning to face him, Dean waved a hand. “Go for it.”

“Do you believe in God?” From the way Dean’s brow arched Castiel could tell he’d asked something loaded but he couldn’t help himself. Not only was Dean easy to talk to for some strange reason, but he was the first person Castiel had spoken to who didn’t know he was a priest. He could get honest answers by someone not worried about offending him.

“Whoa you don’t waste any time, huh?” Dean snickered but he didn’t appear offended. “Uh, yeah. I believe in God. Do I go to church and all that crap? Nope. But I believe in the big man upstairs.”

“Why don’t you go to church?” Inquired Castiel innocently.

“Just not for me. I don’t like being preached at. My mom used to take us when I was little but after I got old enough to say no she didn’t make me go.” He explained. “She still goes sometimes I think.”

Castiel exhaled deeply and tried to figure out how to structure his next question. “So, you have faith? Is that difficult?”

Dean studied him closely for a moment before saying, “Sometimes. It’s not something I think about really until I have to think about it.” Pause. “Don’t really consider myself a religious person but, when I was four our house caught on fire and my mom got trapped inside. Dad tried to go in and get her but the smoke was too thick and the flames were too high. The firemen arrived and they went in to get her but ya know; everyone was expecting the worst. To this day we don’t know how she survived.”

Castiel touched his neck and the collar that wasn’t there. “Divine intervention.”

Dean made a noncommittal noise. “Eh maybe. Whatever it was I’m just glad it was looking out for my family that night.”

Swallowing hard, Castiel couldn’t silence the niggling little voice that asked why wasn’t it there for mine before it made his stomach twist unpleasantly. He didn’t wish to have those types of thoughts but he couldn’t help himself. “Why are you here?”

And just like that Dean was grinning again. “Usual place had an unfortunate accident in the form of a mullet wearing idiot plugging too many things into one outlet. It caught fire and now I gotta drink here until it’s fit to be opened again. I don’t mind though.” He winked. “Company’s pretty interesting.”

Castiel flushed as the back of his neck and cheeks grew warm. He took a big gulp of his beer to help calm his nerves. “Even though I have asked you invasive questions about your faith?”

Dean bumped his shoulder. “Yup. I’ve been asked worse. You should hear the stuff my mom bugs me about.”

It was clear that Dean was charismatic and used to talking to people, perhaps he even did it for a living. It made Castiel wonder why he had picked him of all the patrons inside to strike up a conversation with. Maybe he’d sensed his loneliness and wanted to do a good deed for the night. “Well we can change the subject if you like. Though I must warn you I am not up to date on television shows and such, but I do follow current events.”

Dean signaled the bartender for two more beers. “Nah it’s cool. We can talk about whatever you want, dude. “

In truth he wanted to talk about Anna but he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject without bringing himself to tears. And he sort of liked the air of mystery between himself and this handsome man. He could pretend to be anyone he wanted. “This is my first time out in a while,” he admitted, now sipping his beverage, getting used to the bitter taste.

“And you picked a bar to go to?” Dean teased. “You don’t really strike me as the lonely drinker type. But I guess everything else is closed or whatever.”

“Yes. If I could I would have went to the park or the community garden and watched the bees.” Castiel bit into his bottom lip, feeling silly for saying as much.

But Dean just nodded without a trace of sarcasm. He leaned in close to Castiel, so close that he could smell his cologne and the scent of real leather. His left arm brushed Castiel’s shoulder and for one single solitary moment Castiel thought Dean was going to kiss him. His breath hitched and he went still, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in shocked anticipation. Dean noticed his reaction of course and smirked, motioning to the bowl of pretzels he was actually reaching for.

Castiel watched him toss a few into his mouth with a face that felt like it was on fire. Was Dean flirting with him? And if he was…well wasn’t that wholly inappropriate? Considering his own orientation and the support he received in his younger years from Anna, Castiel didn’t hate himself or think of himself as a sinner. He did subscribe to the mantra of hate the sin not the sinner but only at its basic level because deep down he didn’t feel it was actually possible to hate the sin without such a view affecting said sinner. If someone identified as gay or lesbian then that was a big part of who they were and hating it meant—in essence—hating them. He was not like Uriel; he didn’t want anyone hating themselves.

While Michael and Naomi had never outright told him he was wrong or going to hell, he got the sense being attracted to men wasn’t their main issue. It was what it could lead to that they feared. That they said his parents had also feared. Gabriel thought it was “cool”.

Still more pressing than the maybe inappropriateness of being flirted with by a good looking man were the vows that he’d taken upon giving himself to the service of God.

Instead of allowing himself to focus on that too closely, he drained the rest of his first beer and started on his second. It settled warm in the pit of his stomach, sending out a pleasurable heat that had him slouching forward to rest his arms on the bar top. Alcohol was nothing but a numbing agent and not one he recommended to fix your problems, but he couldn’t deny that it muddled his mind enough to put it a little at ease. At least when it came to Anna and his chest crushing grief.

“You a bee keeper?” Dean picked up their stalled conversation as he crunched on pretzels.

“No I—I just like bees.” Castiel chuckled at the absurdly of his statement. “I guess I should clarify that I like animals in general. I always wanted a dog but was never allowed to have one. Now, I take care of the strays when they come around.”

“My brother is the animal fan in my family. I mean I like ‘em just fine but I’ve never thought about getting one. He got this annoying mutt with blue eyes his junior year of college only to learn he couldn’t keep it in his apartment. Kid practically begged me to take it until he graduated so I did.” He rolled his eyes fondly at the memory. “The damn thing was a terror. He’d wake me up at the crack of dawn for walks, hog almost all the bed when he had his own and always seemed to be hungry. His name was Riot and man did it fit.”

“Something tells me you like him more than you are letting on.”

“Eh he’s not so bad once you get used to him. In the beginning though I wanted to literally punch him in the face.”

The image made Castiel laugh, deep and smoky with amusement. It reminded him of the things Gabriel would get up to when he became a teenager. Although Castiel was young and his memory filled with so many things, he would never forgot his older brother painting one side of their house lime green or shaving his teacher’s cat until it was almost completely hairless. Those had been happy if chaotic times.

He missed them.

Blinking slowly, he smoothed a hand over his tired eyes and shivered from the chill let in by the door opening. Dean was funny and entertaining but at the end of the night it wouldn’t matter because he would be back in his room at the church with nothing but old photographs to keep him company. And he would be expected to be okay by Sunday for Mass. Uriel would consider a week an acceptable time to flow through the stages of grief before coming out on the other side alright. He’d fake it if he had to.

Swallowing several more mouthfuls of his beverage, he pushed the bottle away so that he wouldn’t finish it all. He was already buzzed or tipsy as they said and there was no way he was driving back to the church. Fumbling into his pocket for his wallet, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. His skin was flushed and his eyes a bit glassy, his brain chugging slowly along on what it could. He was in the moment; stringing together thoughts of paying, home and sleep.

In the morning he would say a prayer for all of those ensnared by the grips of alcohol addiction.

Counting the bills and wondering if leaving a tip was suitable, Castiel jerked when a warm hand settled onto his thigh, giving it a squeeze. His big blue eyes tracked down to it and although it was just a normal hand, he swore he could feel it burning through the old denim of his jeans. Wetting his lips, he looked to the owner of said hand. “Dean.”

Dean appeared totally in control though the blush of his cheeks could have been from anything. “You wanna get out of here?”

Castiel’s throat was dry. “You mean…”

Dean grinned; a slow stretch of his pouty lips on one side as his eyelids lowered to slits like a cat. “Do you wanna come home with me, Castiel?” His hand tightened but Castiel was enraptured by the way his name had been said. Like it belonged in the verse of the soft bluesy song now droning from the juke box.

“I…” He exhaled deeply. No was on the tip of his tongue. It was one thing to flirt and converse but having sexual intercourse would be—it would be turning its back on everything that he believed in. Everything he had faith in.

Faith.

Faith… that he could not see or touch. That currently wasn’t warm and grounding like Dean’s hand.

Dean’s hand. That was currently keeping him from floating into the ether of his own depression.

Castiel didn’t allow himself to want…but that didn’t stop him from needing. And the voice inside his alcohol inflamed mind whispered he could always repent later. Right now he needed physical comfort like he never had before.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he nodded. “Yes.”

Dean threw a few dollars onto the countertop and stood, shrugging into a dark blue jacket. He grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him out the door and across the parking lot to a beast of a black car, opening the passenger side door like a gentleman. Castiel slipped inside and spared a glance to his own vehicle, promising himself that he would return tomorrow for it.

There was a single moment of clarity as Dean climbed in that what he was doing was wrong and against everything he stood for. He turned to apologize and decline the invitation when Dean’s fingers slid around to the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, pressing their lips together. It wasn’t Castiel’s first kiss or his second but it was the first in many years; warm and wet and perfect. He didn’t have technique but Dean didn’t seem to mind. It silenced every dissenting thought he could remember having, replacing them with simple bursts of nonsense words as Dean bit and nipped at his lips. As he sucked on his tongue and combed his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair.

So Castiel let himself be swept away by a tide of desire and calming silence.

A crooked beam of sunlight shining through a break in the curtains pulled Castiel out of his gentle slumber as it passed over his eyes. He groaned softly and pressed his face into the fluffy pillow, fighting away the tiny headache throbbing at his temples. He stretched and winced at the soreness of his backside before snuggling back down to the downy mattress. It was a nice soreness; that type of pain that actually felt good.

Dean was budged up behind him with an arm around his waist and well that felt good too.

There was shame over what had transpired the previous night but there were also amazing memories. Dean had taken him apart at the seams and sowed him back together with suckling kisses on every part of Castiel he could reach after Castiel had quietly admitted he’d never had sex before. Dean decided he should experience it all or at least all that he was up for. He’d taken great pleasure biting and licking down Castiel’s naked body before settling between his spread thighs, nuzzling at his crotch before sucking his cock down like he had been paid to do it. The sensations had been unlike anything Castiel had ever felt and he found it hard to keep quiet. Hard to keep still and not try to get closer.

Dean hadn’t wanted him quiet though and that had worked out perfectly because Castiel had wanted to make noise; to let out all of those sounds he’d kept bottled up. By the time Dean’s perfect pink mouth had him close enough to orgasm he’d been white knuckling the sheets and whining for it, begging gibberish and undulating his hips on the bed. One hard suck later and Castiel had come with a shuddered cry, pulsing into the wet warmth of Dean’s eager mouth.

He remembered melting afterwards and mewling as Dean continued to lick him even though he was super sensitive. He remembered Dean crawling the length of his body and kissing him, and not being disgusted by the salty taste on Dean’s tongue. He’d kissed back with total abandon, asking for more.

And Dean had given it to him. Worked him open with slick fingers until he was nearly mad with need yet at the same time not wanting Dean to stop thrusting and curling his fingers inside of him. Castiel had masturbated before but he’d never touched himself where Dean had, never pushed inside and stroked until he was gasping for air.

Castiel had watched with hooded eyes as Dean kneeled between his legs and ripped open a condom. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching Dean’s dick, from tracing his thumb across the leaking head and smiling when Dean moaned. “You can suck it later,” Dean had told him with a devious grin and the thought had excited him more than he’d wanted to let on. But he’d done it during their second round. Let Dean guide his movements with a hand buried in his thick hair. And he’d loved every moment of it—of the taste and the feel.

Dean inside of him—fully seated—had been somewhat of a revelation. Nerves he hadn’t even known existed were set on fire and burned down to nothing as Dean rolled his hips and found a rhythm that let him thrust into Castiel fluidly. In and out over and over again as he whispered filthy things into Castiel’s ear. Never could Castiel had imagined sex to be like that, so consuming and intense. He’d missed it without having ever had it before and it didn’t make sense, but he knew it to be true down to the very marrow of his bones. There was just something right about Dean’s weight pinning him to the mattress, about Dean’s lips on his neck and Dean’s fingers entwining with his own.

Castiel came arching off the bed with his legs wrapped around Dean’s waist and his nails digging into Dean’s biceps. The pleasure exploded inside of him and left him panting for air, nuzzling at Dean’s strong jaw as Dean grunted and shook and continued to pound into him. He looked amazing when he finally let go and came, face twisted in bliss, body trembling and damp. A few minutes later he had stumbled out of bed and discarded the condom only to return with a wet cloth to clean them both up.

And then they had cuddled and talked before Dean’s stroking hands turned exploring and possessive once again.

Sleeping with Dean had been a colossal mistake and a desertion of everything he believed in, but he couldn’t deny it had also been therapeutic in a way. Just being held by someone for the first time since he was a child; letting the feel of their skin divert his mind away from melancholy thoughts. Psychologically he knew how much human contact could help a person, how much holding someone’s hand when they were going through a rough time could make all the difference. He just hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing it; that sort of intimate connection.

But he was a priest and he had defiled himself for one night of comfort, and it was something he would have to come to terms with. Unlike other priests that could commit atrocities and feel no guilt, he did feel badly for what he’d allowed himself to do. Especially since it was with a man. Perhaps it would be his one and only indiscretion that he would lock up inside and never think about again. He was certain he could do it—he was quite controlled, last night notwithstanding.

Biting his bottom lips, he slowly moved Dean’s arm and eased out of bed as silently as he could. Dean snorted but slept on, looking peaceful and adorable with the sheet slung low on his hips, revealing the top of where dark blonde pubic hair begin. Castiel wanted to dive back under the covers and snuggle in close but it was a new day and the time for that sort of thing had passed. He’d given himself into temptation once—well technically twice—and now it was time to face the consequences. To confess and pray for absolution.

As quietly as he could he sought out his clothes and dressed, making sure not to bump into anything. He was tying up his shoelaces when he spied the notebook on the bedside table and wondered if leaving a note would be okay. After etiquette dealing with a one night stand wasn’t something he was or had ever been up to date on. However as a common courtesy he decided it wouldn’t be a horrible idea. He was sneaking out after all.

Grabbing up the pen, he jotted down a quick message and then fled.

Life went on as usual for Castiel and if he was a little more devoted to his parishioners than usual no one appeared to mind. He preached about love and forgiveness with so much sincerity that a few of the elderly women had been moved to tears. Although he knew he should have confessed his night with Dean to someone—perhaps Uriel—he hadn’t said a word. He’d prayed to God for forgiveness and continued on as he would like everything was the same. And if Uriel noticed anything he didn’t comment on it.

Missing Anna got easier after a while but it never truly went away. There were times when he would be getting ready for dinner or bed and be expecting her to call only to remember she never would again. Her disappearance from his life spurred him into contacting Balthazar, and despite having to hear all about his brother’s lucrative profession of masturbating on webcam for money (he had a personal website) it had been a nice conversation. Made him think that maybe reconnecting with the others a bit more wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It was something Anna had always wanted for him anyway.

“Our family is crazy Castiel, but they are still our family.” She would say with a smile in her voice.

He was thinking of making visiting her grave a yearly tradition.

It had officially been six weeks since his encounter with Dean when the smell of Mrs. Sawyer’s apple pie crumb cake made his stomach roll distastefully. Usually it was one of his favorites to sample from their charity bake sale but standing over it now he found the dash of cinnamon she used to be more like a pound. He held his breath and took a few steps back, making sure that no one noticed. He didn’t want them to think there was anything wrong with it and then not buy a piece. Though he was sure if he even attempted to eat some he’d be sick.

The truth was he hadn’t exactly been able to keep anything done except stale salty crackers and ginger ale. The flu was in full force for the time of year but Castiel never got more than a cold, and this just didn’t feel like the flu. It felt like something that happened maybe every other morning; a green about the gills sort of nausea that could easily push him to vomit if he weren’t careful.

He had a sneaking suspicion what was wrong with him but it wasn’t something he wanted to even whisper about. The very thought terrified him more than he could ever remember feeling before. Avoiding it had been the main reason he’d joined the priesthood in the first place. Well that, coupled with his sexual orientation.

This is your punishment for forsaking your vows. God is punishing you.

Frowning, he pushed down the horrid little voice and excused himself from the chattering group to make his way into the rectory. He hurried into his bedroom and shut the door, nibbling on his bottom lip as he opened an old oak cabinet and pulled out a metal lock box. There were several things he kept inside under lock and key so that Uriel couldn’t snoop, not that he ever would but Castiel felt he could never be too careful. Most were childhood pictures and a few books he knew the other priest wouldn’t approve of. However tucked in a velvet pouch off to the side was one of three pregnancy tests he…mostly owned.

Mostly because about a year ago a young man had showed up on the church steps in need of serious guidance and just someone to talk to. He revealed he’d been having an affair with a married man and feared he was pregnant, and had no one to talk to. Castiel being Castiel he’d listened patiently as the man explained his situation and the suggested he take a test to know for sure. The young man—Alfie—confessed he already had some but was too nervous to find out the results by himself. So Castiel had stood outside the bathroom with him as they waited for the outcome. Long story short Alfie had been pregnant and Castiel had tucked away the other tests in his hurry to hide them from Uriel. He was staunchly against pregnant men.

Staring at the box in his hand, Castiel shook his head but moved into the bathroom. The tests were gender specific since women and men emitted different hormones during pregnancy. Doctors still weren’t certain of the mechanics since men did not have a uterus, not how females did anyway. In fact “male pregnancy” had a rather odd term known as Seahorse Syndrome. Not all men could get pregnant of course but the ones that could had a sort of pouch that allowed them to incubate a child and eventually deliver through C section. However the process of scanning all males at birth for the pouch was something that wasn’t started until the 1930s.

That was how the Novaks came to find out that he could carry a child. So could his first cousin Inias but Inias was straight so it hadn’t mattered.

If Castiel had been straight it would not have mattered either.

Sighing deeply, he ripped open the box and set about following the directions on the side. When he was done he washed his hands and waited, pacing from one side of the bathroom to the other. He didn’t know what he would do if the test was positive. Having an abortion would require major surgery and as such, it was against his beliefs to do so. Yet could he really bring those up considering him pushing them aside was how he was in this situation in the first place? Not to mention Dean had used protection both times; if he were pregnant the chances were insane. It took men considerably longer to conceive than women—it happening through a layer of plastic…

Women get pregnant when protection is used.

Oh god what if he was pregnant? Michael and Naomi would be so disappointed in him. There was a chance they would even disown him. And the one person who would possibly understand and offer a sympathetic ear was now dead. Gabriel and Balthazar wouldn’t shun him but they weren’t children people, not yet anyway. They wouldn’t have any reputable advice for him besides name it after me and don’t drop it if you have it.

And then there was Dean. What if anything was he going to say to Dean? What if he couldn’t even find him again?

Ten minutes later and Castiel forced himself to look at the test. Just as he’d been dreading there was a big blue plus sign in the little window; his hand was shaking as he touched it. He was pregnant.

He was pregnant.

The room tilted and he grabbed the counter to keep from tipping over. His stomach rumbled and he had to inhale and exhale slowly, pushing down the bile that threatened to rise up. What was he going to do? What was he going to do!?

“Castiel.” Uriel was suddenly looming in the doorway; Castiel hadn’t even heard him enter his room. “Mrs. Baxter is looking for you. What are you doing? Are you still ill?” His big dark eyes flittered down to the test before narrowing slightly. “Castiel?”

Castiel swallowed hard. “Uriel I—I must confess something to you. I have betrayed your trust and that of the church. I…sinned.”

Uriel sighed, his expression stoic. “I see. When did this happen?”

Castiel shrugged. “About six weeks ago. I was so upset over Anna’s death and that of her family. I felt isolated and went to a bar for a drink. I know it was wrong but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Uriel grunted and folded his arms over his chest. “I always suspected you were a…homosexual but I didn’t know you could create abominations. This is troubling. You could be defrocked for this. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry. I have failed myself and God.”

“Yes. However, you are not the first priest to make an indiscretion. We have known each other for a long time and I…would be willing to help you deal with this problem.”

Castiel blinked at him. “What do you mean deal with it?”

Uriel grumbled. “Get rid of it in secret. We can tell everyone you had a family emergency while you recuperate.” Pause. “It is a disgrace, Castiel. It shouldn’t be here. Imagine the scandal if people found out. Think about how they would feel knowing the man who once guided them and gave them the tools to save their souls, allowed himself to be infected and debased. They’d lose all hope.”

“But we teach that abortion is wrong.”

“Under normal circumstances. This isn’t normal.” Uriel told him. “Now I will make arrangements for you to purge that thing as soon as possible.” He reached out and patted Castiel’s shoulder. “And then you shall ask and be forgiven, having seen the error of your ways.”

Castiel watched his fellow priest walk out before running a hand through his hair. That was not the reaction he had been expecting from Uriel at all. He thought his friend would be angry and disappointed, not so despondent to the point of being willing to cover everything up. He supposed he should be a little happy Uriel cared enough but it just made him feel strange. Uriel was devout and if he were willing to turn a blind eye…

Feeling claustrophobic, surrounded by church goers and crosses, Castiel grabbed his car keys and sneaked out the back door. He just needed a few moments alone. Uriel would make excuses for him if anyone asked; apparently he was good at that.

By the time Castiel needed to stop for gas it was heading into the afternoon and he was no closer to a decision than he had been hours before. There was a tiny headache throbbing behind his eyes and although the thought of real food made him feel green, he was still hungry. Maybe he could stand a bowl of plain chicken broth or something. Though the thought of returning to the church to be badgered for an answer by Uriel didn’t appeal to him at all. No, he needed more time. He needed another opinion on the situation. He needed…

Exhaling deeply, he left the gas station and drove until he was surrounded by freshly mowed lawns and houses that more or less all looked the same. He couldn’t remember exactly which house he’d visited on that fateful night but he knew he would never forget the black car; it wasn’t something that one saw often.

He spotted it parked in front of a white two-story home with black shutters, standing out like a sore thumb.

You can always turn back, whispered the voice inside his head. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Which was true but his reaction to Castiel’s news could make all the difference on going with Uriel’s plan and venturing into the unknown. “If he’s a jerk about it then…that is that.” He said aloud. “And it’s for the best. Perhaps it is even what God wants.”

It wasn’t exactly fair but he couldn’t be choosy, not with his situation. He was a priest, a man of God and he was pregnant. Honestly he wasn’t sure what was more upsetting; that he was pregnant or that this was some type of physical reminder of his transgression. Other men got pregnant—it was as taboo as unexplained things had ever been—but where some didn’t accept it others thought of it as a miracle. In the current day and age it was almost normal. What wasn’t normal however was a priest having a child. Showing off his utter lack of restraint to the world. The last high profile man to become with child—who beforehand claimed to be straight no less—had been a Senator and the media had covered the story relentlessly. Castiel wasn’t so important but he didn’t want to be in the local news either.

Frowning and resisting the urge to run away, Castiel climbed out of his car and slowly made his way up onto the porch. He stared at th0e door like it might attack him before lightly knocking. It wasn’t until he heard a gruff voice yell coming that he remembered how he was dressed.

Oh no.

The door opened and there was Dean. Still handsome as ever Dean looking at him like he’d seen a ghost. As his eyes swept up and down Castiel’s body they grew even wider. “...Castiel?”

Castiel managed a small smile. “Hello Dean.”

“Wh—I—um…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s with the monkey suit? It’s not anywhere near Halloween.”

“I’m a priest.” Castiel straightened his jacket and poked at his white collar. “May I come in? I’ll explain everything. I—I’m sure you have quite a few questions.”

Dean snorted but waved him inside before closing the door. “Understatement, dude. I mean if you’re a priest I’m pretty sure what we did is against your moral code or whatever. Not that that has ever stopped anyone.”

Castiel nibbled on his bottom lip and slowly sunk down onto the couch. “Yes sleeping with your or anyone for that matter is breaking my vow of celibacy. I shouldn’t have done it but I—well I was in a bad place and overcome with grief at the loss of someone very dear to me. You made me feel better.”

Dean arched a brow. “Um, you’re welcome?”

Blushing, Castiel looked down at his hands. “It’s hard to explain. I suppose the basics would be that when I needed someone—something more than I had—you were there for me. I knew what I was doing and how I would be judged but I did it anyway. I have since sought forgiveness for what happened though I am not certain it will be granted.”

“Why not?”

“There have been complications. A fellow priest found out about…things.”

“That sucks. So he’s going to rat you out for a one night stand? I know you have rules and all but guy sounds like a dick.”

“It’s more than that.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Well man I’m sorry if this gets you kicked outta the church or whatever. Had I known… Well honestly I probably would have done it anyway if you were game because you’re smoking hot.” Pause. “Just sucks that you got caught. So many others that do worse than consent to sex don’t.”

In the fresh light of day Castiel could see sparse freckles across the bridge of Dean’s nose. Shaking his head, he pushed down the tiny part of him that was pleased to know Dean thought he was attractive. “My faith has always been very important to me and it still is. However I guess if it were so easy for me to question it, maybe I need to put myself under the microscope a bit longer. I don’t regret what we did. I should but I don’t.”

Dean smiled cheekily. “I don’t either. But now I get why you ditched me the next day. With God as your dad I guess I can let it slide.”

Chuckling, Castiel rubbed his forehead. He could do this. He could be honest. “Okay. I hadn’t expected to ever see you again of course. That would be insane. I was going to pretend it never happened but…” A beat. “I. I’m pregnant.”

There, it was out in the open.

“Huh?” Dean looked like he’d been slapped in the face. It was almost comical. “You’re pregnant? Are you—you saying I knocked you up?”

“Not exactly in those terms but yes.” Castiel stared at him. “I guess you could call to question whether it’s yours but—”

“No I wouldn’t do that. I don’t think you of all people would lie about this. Jesus. Shit, sorry. I mean…” He was babbling. “Wow. But we used protection. Lots of protection. Be—because ya know, herpes and other nasty shit that’s floating around out there. Granted those condoms were old but—fuck. I should sue the hell outta Trojan.”

“So you’re upset?” Castiel inquired.

Big green eyes stared at him. “I’m…shocked. This—this is shocking. I’m gonna be dad. Wow.”

Castiel blinked. “How do you feel about it? I mean I am a man and pregnant men aren’t widely accepted. Not to mention we’re not married or even together. Doesn’t this ruin your life?”

Dean shook his head. “What? No. It’s unexpected, way unexpected but hey, it is what it is. I’d feel this way even if you were a chick and it’s not like I’m some stupid kid still in high school. I take it though it does ruin your life? I mean you can’t still be a priest and pop out a baby, right? Guess they frown on that sort of thing.”

Right and quite heavily. “You think I should have it?”

“I think that’s up to you.” Dean said softly. “But if you’re here asking me what I think or if I want you to get rid of it, then the answer is no. This doesn’t screw up my life it just puts it on a different path. A kid? Might be fun.”

That was not the reaction Castiel had been expecting at all but it actually made a sort of sense. Dean did appear to be the nurturing type; the kind of guy that would want to have a family of his own. “If I keep this child I will have to uproot my entire life. Leave the priesthood and get a regular job and find a place to stay. What if I can’t do any of those things?”

“I’d help, duh.” Dean replied. “With whatever you needed. I’m not some deadbeat. Hell I’ve got a guest room—you could crash here until you found something better. No strings attached.”

Okay what was really not expected. “You’d do that for me?”

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t sound so surprised, Cas. You’re carrying my kid. And I’d be lying if I said seeing you again wasn’t something I wanted. Never thought this is how it would happen but…there ya go. But look, it’s up to you. No pressure.”

Castiel focused on Dean’s words. He was touched and a bit excited to know Dean had thought about him after their night together. The fact that he wasn’t kicking him out and demanding he get an abortion both made his decision harder and easier. Dean wanted to be a father, but did he? Could he handle all of that? Uriel would no doubt condemn him if he didn’t go along with his plan.

What about my plan? “You’re given me a lot to think about.”

Ripping a piece of paper from a notebook by the phone, Dean scribbled down his phone number. “Here. Call me if you need anything, okay? And when you make up your mind.”

“I will.” Castiel stuffed the paper into his pocket. “Thank you for being so understanding, Dean.” He took the chance of squeezing Dean’s hand before standing. “I’ll be in touch soon I promise.”

“Okay.” Dean walked with him to the door. “Take care of yourself.”

Castiel smiled. “I’ll try.”