Castiel Is My Dad

Part of moving out was to get rid of the confines that came with Chuck’s dedication to his faith. While Jimmy himself has never actually abandoned his faith in the pursuit of a higher education, it’s definitely taken a step to the left to make way for other things.

What wasn’t supposed to happen was for him to receive a call from Chuck asking to meet a girl back at home.

“She can be good for you, Jimmy. You’re both going after the same degree, she’s been at the church as long as you. You— you just need to meet her.”

As much as he doesn’t want to, Jimmy makes his way back home for the holidays in time for Sunday service. The state of the church reflects the people there: wealthy. Church bells chime at 8am and the masses rise in tandem with the sound. Jimmy’s in his best suit and tie, topped off with his trench coat to atone for the chill that accompanies the stone building. With his hair is styled and face clean shaven, he looks fresh. Clean. Put together.

Like a good little servant.

The morning ends with a reservation for breakfast at the tea house down the way. Jimmy stands around shyly, looking for a seat where he won’t have to speak to anyone— maybe a table with chatty old folk or a group that’s already well established.

He takes a seat at the first empty table he sees and throws his coat over the back of the chair, head down to look at the lightbulb reflecting off the plate. Then he feels a tap to his shoulder.

“Um, Jimmy?” You say gently. It’s hard to tell if he’s scared or in a bad mood.

He lifts his head. Jimmy’s nose is pink from the cold and he looks much more handsome in person.

“Hello.”

“Chuck sent me over here…he says we should meet?”

“Oh. You know my daddy?”

“Yessir.”

“I’m sorry.”

You giggle. “He’s a smart man, at least on paper. He wrote a letter to me about you.”

You sit beside Jimmy and pick up a menu. The table fills with random churchgoers and the soft chattering does something to ease the awkwardness of your first encounter. Jimmy doesn’t know what to say…you are pretty, and you seem smart, but the lifestyle that he lives would probably send you into a coma.

“He says we’re getting the same degree.” You add. “Religious studies. Chuck suggested I go back with you to take a tour of your campus. I’m looking to get my master’s too, and he says you put a lot of thought into where you wanted to study.”

Jimmy nods and gives you a shy smile.

He orders a pb&j, a tea, and a ginger ale. The food isn’t going to be the cheap grocery store quality he enjoys, but it does the trick. You order your own sandwiches and tea and Jimmy starts getting curious about what Chuck’s been saying about him. He straightens his posture and leans in towards you.

“Is that all he says about me?” Jimmy asks. When the tea arrives he drinks it with a splash of milk, stirring four times and tapping the spoon to the lip of the cup delicately. Going to fancy restaurants and keeping up appearances at home isn’t something he missed.

“He says you call sometimes, and that he’s surprised you showed up.”

Jimmy sighs. You seem so good-natured, it hurts knowing you’ve been tricked to think well of him. The sandwiches arrive soon after: dainty, finger sized things with the crusts cut off, served on cute ceramic plates and guaranteed to make you leave hungrier than when you arrived.

“I don’t think a campus tour would suit your tastes.” He replies honestly. “The culture is different from here.”

“You talk about it like I’ve never been let outside before.” You scoff.

“Some families are like that. Then you have to run away to discover what you enjoy, all on your own.” God knows Jimmy did, but he’s not sure of God approves.

“Mine isn’t like that.” You look Jimmy up and down. “I know what I like.”

Both of you stop to pray before eating.

Chuck’s mansion is decorated head to toe in gaudy decorations and religious decor like the words ‘church’ and ‘Tuscan’ were the only two descriptors he gave the interior designers. Jimmy is forced to stay at Chuck’s to ‘catch up with the community’— funny when Chuck hardly interacts with the community outside of the church— but Jimmy’s since retired to his room where his personal bathroom is connected.

The look that you gave him…there’s only a few others places he’s seen that look, and none of them were given while he was sober. Jimmy strips down to his pants and undoes his belt. Staring into the brass bathroom mirror, he splashes water on his face to get rid of the guilt.

He shouldn’t be thinking about people like that. A day without someone treating him like meat and he’s already aching for someone to grab him and do whatever they want until he’s purple all over. It only makes itself worse knowing his thoughts wander to a girl he’s just met.

He can’t help that it’s what he wants.

A smoke will get him in the mood for a distraction. He pops open the bathroom window, sits on the toilet, and takes in the mediocre taste of something pre-rolled. His frat brothers would’ve helped him out if they were here— a group to hold him down and coo in false sympathy while he’s whining for a hand on his cock.

Joint in his right hand, his left starts to rub the ache out. He feels light headed and happy, more like himself and less like Jimmy Novak. He lets the joint sit between his lips while he builds a steady rhythm rocking his hips against his palm. He whines, spreading his quivering legs in between deep breaths and long pumps like a desperate animal. He wants to go back to school.

“Unh…ah….shit….” It hurts to rub himself while dry, but it’s the only good pain he’s going to get until the holiday’s over. His head hangs loose on his neck and the smoke starts tangling in his hair. Jimmy’s never considered himself the sexually frustrated type, but he’s also never been away long enough to really know until now. When it hurts too much to keep rubbing dry he spits on his palm and keeps going.

What if Jimmy did take you on a campus tour? Do what Daddy wants from him by leading you around the nice parts of campus, take you to the cafe (for food worth actually worth eating), and introduce you to his brothers at Delta Psi-O. You wouldn’t have to know what he does at night, and Chuck might get off his case about coming back home to meet potential partners.

His eyebrows scrunch up and he squeezes his eyes shut. Blood rushes straight through his body at the thought.

He’s good. He’s so so good. He does what people ask of him and he’s so good for it.

It’s what people tell him at school at least.

The throbbing in his hand only grows when the joint in his mouth is gone. Fond memories flood back and he misses his real home. He misses Balthazar, he misses Gabriel, he misses the strangers that don’t mind when he’s gross, he misses—

“Jimmy?”—

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You push the door open and see Jimmy sitting on the toilet lid shirtless. His pants are on but the zipper is wide open, doing nothing to cover up the mess he just made in his hands. His eyes blow wide and he looks around in confusion like a helpless animal. He can barely choke out a sentence:

“Y-you’re not supposed to be here.”

Why aren’t you going away? Why are you just standing there? The whole room reeks and he looks like he’s just run a marathon.

You swallow the gob of spit that forms in your throat, heat flushing your cheeks and ears.

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy whimpers a bit. At this point people would be calling him Castiel and ripping off the rest of his clothes. “Y-yeah?”

You wave the smell of smoke away from your nose to no avail. Chuck was right when he wrote about Jimmy being suitable as a partner— but he probably wasn’t thinking about this side of it. Jimmy’s sweating bullets knowing at any moment she could run downstairs and tell the whole world that he’s a disgusting pervert. He wipes at the snot and sweat on his upper lip waiting for an answer.

“Can I help?”

Jimmy’s whole body convulses in shock. He’d cum again if he wasn’t putting all his energy into holding himself back. You shut the door and sit on the lip of the bathtub in front of the toilet, watching his poor attempt at saving face. When Jimmy can finally calm down, he sits still like he’s waiting for a command.

“Help…?” He wines through gritted teeth. He can’t bear to look at you.

“I’m not touching you if that’s what you’re asking.” You laugh at the sight of him squirming. “Not there at least. I’m helping myself to a piece of you.”

All you do is watch. Make him sit in the uncomfortable quiet of his own soft panting, sweat and snot dripping onto the tile floor. He’d cum when you caught him in the act and you don’t feel inspired enough to let him finish twice.

Jimmy bites his tongue before he can tell you he thinks this is hot.

“I need to have a shower.” Jimmy finally spouts. “If you’re not going to do anything, I’d like to do that.”

You do think about it.

“Okay.” You get up, not without taking another long look at him. “When are you going back to school, Jimmy?”

“Um…tomorrow. Night.”

Your face softens. “Can you let me know if you change your mind about the campus tour? I know I don’t need your permission, but it would be nice for someone to give me a thorough overview of the whole place. And teach me about the culture, of course.”

You talk as if the position he’s in is something normal. Jimmy only nods and thanks you when you give him a towel.

“It was nice meeting you Jimmy.”

“…likewise.”

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