o0Chapel Of Love0o
That boy again. Castiel had seen him twice this week already. He was young, no older then twenty. He was sin personifited. Full, lusty red lips parted to reveal a sultry white smile. The young man was tall, broad with sleek muscles coiling beneath his tan skin. The freckles dusting over the bridge of his nose were the only indication he was even human, he was almost too beautiful. The small blemishes seemed to make him more concrete, more perfect. Castiel sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he sat at his desk. The boy had been filling his thoughts, and surely that was all he was, a boy. How cliche that Castiel would become the perverted priest who lusted for the child barley out of his teens, while he himself was nearing thirty.
"Castiel." Anna called, dark red hair brushing past her shoulders. It was always a shock to him, to see her without her nun's veil. She had abandoned it months ago, declaring her rebellion against the Church's old ways. She visited Castiel ocassionally, her large eyes searching. Trying to get him to join her on her ridiculous attempts to reinvent the long standing traditions.
"How are you?" She asked seriously, taking in his flushed cheeks and bowed head at being disrupted in his thoughts for the mysterious boy.
"I'm fine, please take a seat." He gestured, offering a small smile. Anna was very beloved to him. The young woman had been high up in the church, one of the head nuns before her departure. She had done bible studies with Castiel to prepare him for his preisthood.
"You seemed to be deep in thought, something bothering you?" She asked, her slim wrist exposed. Castiel traced the smooth surface with his eyes, seeing the soft skin raise slightly were her veins touched the surface. Anna shyly moved her hands into her lap.
"Nothing at all." He dismissed, looking out the stained glass window.
Castiel felt his voice rumble in the back of his throat, the soft latin warmed him as he recited the hyms. The familar words rolled of his tongue with ease, almost lulling him on the warm sunday morning. The crowd was rapt with attention, staring up at him in awe. It was intimate almost. This connection he felt with the worshipers, he spoke to them softly. Urging them to listen to the word of God through himself, a worthless vessal of the Lord. He glanced up at the crowd, and froze suddenly. The steady stream of words cutting off as green eyes blazed up at him.
"Frnn-" Castiel cleared his throat, blushing as he stumbled over his speech. The boy smirked, seeming to enjoy the tortuous moment. Quickly the priest shut the large dusty book, and continued on with the sermon.
"We should not covet. Yearning for things we do not need. God will provide for us, he will give us what is essential in our lives. If you are faithful, you will be rewarded as such." Castiel rambled. The easy tone he had kept, almost informal had vanished as he took on his more rigid teachings in a last ditch effort to keep calm.
"That's bull." The crowd gasped, even Castiel froze. His blue eyes widening as he saw the boy cross his arms over his chest.
"Excuse me?" Shock quickly melted into indignition. Perhaps the looks he had been interpreted from the boy had not been lust, but smug taunting. Castiel could feel the humiliation burn his stomach.
"That's total crap. If you want something, you have to get it. If there is a God, why should he have to baby us?"
"Young man-" Castiel started. Trying to force away the hurt with a superior tone which he did not suceed at when his voice broke.
"He gave us freewill for a reason, right? We all have that drive, we all need. Why would he put that feeling in us if it wasn't for a reason?" The young man continued effortlessly. Emerald eyes flashing with disobedience. It sparked something in Castiel, something sinful. He could not pin the word down. Shock, adoration, worship. He'd never heard someone speak so freely. With such confidence. His stomach rolled with longing, how he wished he could be that sure. Castiel was at a loss for words, he could not contradict the boys reasoning because he agreed.
"That need you're feeling is the need for structure. For regulations, and for your God." A strong, slippery voice cut in. Castiel winced as Zachariah stepped on the stage. His preist robes had been abandoned for a slimy suit which made him look more like a businessman than the head of the church.
"When things are chaotic, you are panicked. But when things are in order, and in their proper place you are at peace. Correct?" Zachariah cooed, hard eyes smirking at the child. The boy frowned, sitting up straighter in the pew at the confrontation.
"I guess. But-"
"If you follow God's plan, then he will guide you to peace." Zachariah smiled, and the worshipers cheered. Both Castiel and the young man remained silent.
"Sorry about the other day. Can't keep my big mouth shut." A cool, raspy voice came from the other side of the screen. Castiel nearly stumbled from the chair, his brow furrowed as he listened impatiently. He was still hurt, but it had lessoned when the boy had come to his every sermon for the last three days. He had not contradicted Castiel again, only listening patiently, and staring with those infuriatingly beautiful green eyes.
"You made some very interesting points." Castiel said slowly, desperate to hear the boy speak again. He was almost afraid the man would vanish on the other side of the screen. That God himself would strike him down for bringing such happiness to the Priest.
"Your boss didn't seem to think so." Castiel could hear the sneer in the young man's voice.
"Our fathers word is up for interpretation. Although, Zachariah does not agree." Castiel informed, clearing his throat. There was silence for a moment, and Castiel fondled the silver cross resting against his chest. It felt cool and familar in his palm, relaxing him as he anxiously faced the object of his fantasies.
"So how do we start this thing ... 'Forgive me father, for I have sinned'?" He said smoothly. Castiel felt a rare smile tug at his lips as he nodded, before realizing the younger man could not see him.
"Declare your sins before God, and be forgiven, my son." Castiel said the generic line, and it felt much less casual. The boy must have heard it to, because he made a soft amused noise that had Castiel's face red.
"I've had impure thoughts." The boy baited, the tone of his voice dropping an octave. Castiel closed his eyes, looking at the screen which hid the majority of that beautiful face from him.
"Explain." Castiel croaked, hearing the chair creak as the boy leaned forward in his chair. Surely he should be more supporting, try to ease the boy into admitting his wrong doings. But he could barely speak. His robes felt heavy, and sweat gathered along his collar bone.
"There's a man, he's older than me. I can't stop thinking about him." Castiel could see his thick ash blonde eyelashes casting a shadow over his cheek through the screen.
"What do you mean?" Castiel asked. Had his sermons touched the boy? Was he even speaking of Castiel? The young man sure made it sound intimate, like he was trying to tell something to Castiel without really saying it. The young preist was never very good at reading between the lines.
"He's beautiful," The boy started. Jealousy flickered in Castiel, because surely he was not the object of the youths desires. He was serious, and solem. Boring, with plain features only heightened by his sad blue eyes. His hair was messy and dark, and he had to struggle every morning to sweep it neatly in a part.
"More beautiful than any of the girls I've ever been into. He's almost ... angelic. And his voice, it's so soft and pure." The boy said deliberatly. Castiel caught a glimpse of green before looking away. Now he was certain that the child wasn't speaking of him, his voice was gravelly and croaky. Castiel looked away.
"You haven't acted on any of these feelings, have you?" He almost demanded, ducking his head a the sharp tone he took. The child seemed confused for a moment.
"Not yet." The boy said mildly.
"Good, say ten hail marys and make a small donation on your way out." Castiel dismissed, upset and filled with envy.
"Castiel, this is my friend, Dean." Anna smiled brilliantly, holding onto the young man's shoulder. It was the youth who had spoken to him in the confession booth. Green eyes were guarded, not the usually heated stare he fixed on the priest.
"Nice to meet you, father." Dean said, and how the name fit him. Up close he was even more unbearably beautiful. A straight nose, led down to a sharp jawline. He looked like a actor from the 50's. His leather jacket snugly fit over his white shirt and worn jeans. His dark blonde hair was cropped short and put up in a simple, messy style.
"Welcome to our church, I've seen you many times in the crowd." Castiel offered, trying to avoid the stare Dean had fixed on him. The young man was checking him out. The audacity! His jade eyes raked over the Preist's body with finality.
"I enjoy your sermons." Dean grinned, almost mocking. Like he had a secret that he was leaving Castiel out of. The Preist glowered at him.
"Perhaps you will take the word of God to heart." Castiel nodded, signalying to the amulet around Dean's neck closely resembling a devil. The boy also had a cigarette tucked behind his ear.
"Hell, if having a cool necklace it wrong, I don't want to be right." Dean said cockily, tossing the shorter man a rougish grin.
"You should watch your words, you are in a house of God."
"You know, I never understood that. If God made the entire planet from scratch, than what makes one tiny building so important?" Dean shot back.
"It's a place of worshi-"
"People pray in the streets, doesn't make it any less of a holy place than this. Right?" Damn this boy. His quick mind was almost annoyingly clever. Castiel narrowed his blue eyes, turning to Anna.
"I should be going, it was good seeing you." Castiel ducked his head, stealing one last glance at Dean. Their eyes locked onto each other, and the tingles that ran through Castiel's body stayed there for the rest of the night.
Castiel twitched, burying his face in the pillow. Dean. The child had been even more intrusive in his thoughts, and especially his dreams. Castiel tried desperately to ignore the erection digging painfully against his cot.
"Forgive me, father." He whimpered, moving his hips slowly for friction. His legs fell apart, and the most delicious stretch had him withering, his hands reaching back to touch the forbidden place behind his sack. Surely Dean would touch this spot, perhaps licking his fingers before prying at Castiel's entrance.
"Shit!" Castiel clamped his legs shut as he felt his fingers tickling up the back of his thighs. His entire body pulsed with aggravation for the denied pleasure that was sure to follow. Shaking Castiel curled up in a ball, falling into a fitful sleep.
"Forgive me, padre. For I have sinned." Dean breathed, fingers digging into the screen. His voice was ragged, he was aroused. More so than usual. Castiel had seen him shifting throughout the entire sermon. His eyes burning into the Priest.
"Confess before your Father." Castiel choked. Watching Dean rest his forehead against the screen.
"I touched myself ..." Castiel's eyebrows shot up, because surely the boy masturbated frequently. Like most men his age did.
"I touched myself ... when you were preaching." Dean's voice was a growl. Halting green eyes burned through the screen. Castiel flushed, suddenly feeling hot in the encased place.
"I don't understand." Castiel stammered, confused. The child felt for someone else, didn't he? The swell of relief that rushed through him should have been humiliating.
"You're fucking voice," The boy nearly whined, and Castiel saw his hips dart forward. Relief and joy were quickly fading into a hot burning lust.
"It's killing me." Dean finished, breath quick, panicked.
"Dean-" Castiel said, only to stop when the boy let out a low moan.
"Say my name, again. Please, padre." Dean begged, ash blonde eyelashes flickering shut as he pressed his palm against the engorged flesh beneath his faded jeans. He palmed himself, grunting softly.
"Dean ..." Castiel murmured, watching the boy nearly spasm at the word. Castiel leaned forward, pressing his palm to match the boys laying flat against the screen. He could feel the damp heat rest against his.
"More. Please." Dean choked, squeezing his eyes shut as he flicked open the button of his jeans, unzipping them. Castiel watched through the shaded vision of the screen. A thick red cock sprung forth, a bead of cum glistening at the tip when the light caught it just right. Castiel moaned, and the flesh jumped.
"Tell me what you want." Dean demanded, voice coiled tight. Castiel knew this was wrong. Dean was a child, much younger than him, and so very beautiful. It was sinful, it was lustful.
"Touch yourself." Castiel whispered, and Dean obeyed with a groan. Castiel watched the boy's panicked, quick jerks. Strong lean fingers wrapped around the hot sticky flesh and feverishly yanked. Castiel would be much gentler, stroking him full and carefully taking him into his mouth before bringing him to completion.
"Oh, fuck." Dean whimpered. Castiel did not realize he had voiced his fantasy out loud, and Dean picked up his pace. Rising off the bench in his eagerness. He pressed his forehead to the screen, and Castiel mirrored this, feeling his soft hair tickle his temple.
"Slow down, take your time." Castiel urged and Dean let out a choked sob as he obeyed. The holes in the screen barely big enough for Dean to squish his fingertips through, desperate to touch the priest. Castiel felt the boys hot breath against his mouth and leaned forward, kissing the screen. The boy copied this movement. Castiel let out a pitiful cry when the screen blocked most of the kiss, the softest brushes of flesh could be felt but just barely.
"Fuck," Dean hissed, articulating Castiel's own aggravation.
"I'm going around." Dean bit out.
"You can't, someone might see you." Castiel hissed, flushing at the thought of what the boy would do to him. How his flesh would be damp and hot. How he'd moan, and squirm with impatience. Castiel was quickly out of breath.
"Then I'm breaking down this fucking screen. Step back." Dean snapped, reeling back his fist.
"How will I explain a broken screen?" Castiel demanded.
"Say I broke it down and attacked you in a fit of rage." Dean grinned. Castiel shivered, seeing the still swollen cock bobbing between the boys legs.
"Okay." He agreed.
A/N: You want porn. I want reviews. It's a win win for everyone. Review and get some actual fucking. ;)