Beat The Devils Tattoo

Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Meetings

Chapter Text

Balthazar arranged the meeting for Saturday evening the week after he had spoke with Dean. The morning of the meeting, Castiel finished his work.

Dean was drinking his coffee and pouring over his newspaper when footsteps on the stairs made him look up. He very nearly dropped his mug.

Castiel stepped off the stairs, spreading his arms. "Well?"

"Well, damn," Dean choked out hoarsely. "I mean. Cas. Holy shit, you look good."

The man was in heavily modified priest robes. The back patch had been neatly sewn to them, the white collar tight around his neck and embroidered with the Winchester's sun and star in bright red. The black of the collar had the exorcism spell embroidered on it in the same red in tiny letters. His right sleeve had patches sewn to it as well, Michael's old sword patch at the top, followed by chevrons, one in blue and one in red, and below it a seashell in green. His left had only a sword pointed down, with fiery wings to each side of it.

The sides had been slit to the hip, and as he turned, Dean realized he'd poured himself into leathers at some point. His front had no patches, which wasn't surprising. If he didn't feel he'd earned even the back patch, there was no reason for him to have them.

Dean stood up, going over to gently run his fingers over the material. "Cas, this...damn."

"I'm impressed that I've manage to render you speechless." Castiel sounded entirely too smug, but Dean didn't bother ribbing him back. He was too interested in looking over the patches.

"Okay, I get Michael's old sword. Honoring your father all and all that. What's with the chevrons and the seashell?"

Castiel twisted to look at them. "The chevrons are to remind me to protect. In heraldry, they're for faithful service. I served as a priest," he touched the blue, "and I will serve you." He touched the red. "The seashell is for someone who's travelled, and I have done nothing but that since I left. The green is for hope, and loyalty in love."

He was determinedly not looking at Dean, who'd caught his breath.

"Think you could get me one of those?" he asked at last, and Castiel looked up with wide eyes just in time for Dean to pull him into a searing kiss. They were lost in it in seconds, clutching each other. Hands were scrambling for purchase, and Dean was debating pulling off his collar, when there was a loud throat clearing.

Sam was looking at them both from the stairs, utterly disapproving. "Really, guys? You couldn't wait until I was gone?"

"Screw you, I didn't even know you were home," Dean squawked, well aware that he was bright red. Castiel groaned, letting his head thunk onto Dean's shoulder. Dean rubbed his shoulder, saying sympathetically, "I know, Cas. Such a cockblock."

"Rude."

oOo

While no one seemed all that surprised when Castiel showed up, riding bitch on Dean's bike, there were still some looks exchanged at his choice of clothing. Dean resolutely ignored all the pointed stares, and Benny sidled up to him as they started walking towards the meeting place, an empty and abandoned parking lot for a building that was never built on the outskirts of town.

"While I'm certain, oh wise and illustrious leader, that you have your reasons for bringing Castiel there along, I have to wonder if it's particularly wise to antagonize a reportedly highly religious man with one of your club members wearing desecrated priests robes, for lack of a better term," he drawled, keeping his voice low. "Raphael doesn't take kindly to stuff like that, you know that as well as I do."