temple prostitute dean working in deity!cas' temple
LMAO get ready for 1.1k of happy MCD, bitch!!!
Dean had lived in the temple for all of his life. He had been born in a shabby chamber meant for offerings to be stored in, hidden away from all the other servants. He had been taught the ways of worship by his mother and the ways of seduction by his the other servants of the temple, and he had grown to become a priest, and then a head priest, and still kept this position until this very day. He had lived in the temple for all of his life - so it was only right for him to also die there.
It hurt when they carried him from from his sickbed into the altar room. But the pain was omnipresent these days, anyhow; and he had begged them to grant him this one last wish, to not leave him to die in bed but lay him upon the altar, so his only complaints were the grunts and moans of the moment. The sickness had slowly eaten him from the inside-out, rotted his mind along with his body, so that every night, he awoke in pain and confusion, and awoke with them, too. The promise of the absence of pain was just one more reason for him not to fear, but welcome death. Even if it was not the most important one.
For the most important reason, the one that had given him the strength to tell the other servants that his time and come and that he was to be taken to the altar room in the first place; the one that had his limbs quiver in excitement, and not terror; the one that interrupted his rattling coughs with the shadows of a smile again and again, was that he would finally see Him again. His light, his lord, his salvation and only truth.
His god Castiel.
The one he had been serving all of his life, had praised and worshipped until he had reached maturity and met him at last - and from then on, had loved him, too. Not as before; not as distant and devout as was expected of him, but with a fervor and passion that bordered on perversion. Castiel’s blessed touches and graceful kisses had been what had elevated him to priesthood later on; His holy essence shining through Dean reason enough to recognize him as the head priest once his predecessor had finally returned into Castiel’s loving embrace. No one could deny that Dean had been touched by the lord himself - that he had given Castiel the greatest gift he had been able to make back then, and that he had been gifted in return.
Yet, from that night on, it had not been sacredness that he desired, but one sacred being. He had prayed to him, praised him even louder than before, saw him in visions and dreams, asleep and awake, searched for him in every lover that he took in his name, and had thought he could feel him, every now and then, but never for certain, never for long. All at once, their encounter had enriched Dean’s life beyond measure, irrevocably - and had dulled it, too. How could the sky compete with the blue of His eyes? How could the flowers hold any beauty greater than that of His grace? How could honey taste in any way as sweet as His kisses had been?
Dean had been anointed by Him; in both earthly and divine ways. His essence had filled his body and his soul, changed him so profoundly that he had not been able to recognize his own face in the reflection on the pond.
Only his service to the lord could quench his yearnings every so often. But his thoughts were not always subservient and his prayers not always pure. Still, he stayed in the temple, worshipped his name, burnt sacrifices, helped the sickly and the poor, did whatever Castiel could have expected and wanted of a servant.
Some days, his resolution might have wavered, but it never broke. He knew that if he served well, his reward would be all the grander. If he did right by his lord’s name, then his gratefulness would be even more true. If he worked hard and only went to his lord when he finally called for him, then there would be a hundred, a thousand, an eternal number of encounters by the pond again and again, neverending kisses, and love.
Yes, and that was why his sigh when they laid him down onto the altar was one of relief. He had done his time. Faithfully, he had waited more than sixty years, served his lord throughout them, and his longing had only grown stronger with every day. Even if the sickness were not about to take him, then the ache of his heart would have instead. Sixty years had been a long time -- too long a time, perhaps --, so why did waiting even another sixty seconds seem so long to him now, longer even than all those years?
(He knew why.)
He saw and smelled the first candle and flower they placed next to him, took them in almost ruefully. But with every little burst of fire and rustle of leaves and petals, they already appeared farther from him, as if only offered from a distance. The servants’ prayers slowly turned into chanting to his ears and finally lost themselves in indecipherable murmuring. Their tears and cries, too, soon did not touch him anymore. As if he knew they were futile; that there was no need for them.
This was a cause for celebration instead - a lover’s reunion.
He felt his lips pull into a smile upon that thought, one last reconnection with his body, and then, he finally began to slip out of himself.
Slowly, slowly, he could feel it -- could feel Him -- beckoning to him, finally calling him to sit by His side and eat from His table, to receive plentiful kisses. And as the candles grew dimmer, a blue light flickered in the ever-growing darkness of Dean’s sight. Small at first, it grew in size in tune with every prayer that was lost to his ears, every candle whose light did not touch him anymore, every tear needlessly shed for him from a now already faraway place. It grew and grew, seemed to fill all of his vision and of the sky and of his heart, blinding and seeing and caressing and there.
When it finally overtook everything, when his last breath fell away and he took his first true one in a long, long time, when warmth lightened his limbs and filled his longing heart, that was when he felt it at last: a smile pressed against his own, grace singing within his soul, his love finally coming to claim him again, to take him home.
