Only the Penitent Man Shall Pass

Title: Only the Penitent Man Shall Pass
Author: @theydraggedmein - Ao3
Artist: @dmsilvisart
Fic Link: [Ao3]
Art Link: [Tumblr]
Rating: Mature
Archive Warnings: None
Major Tags: Minor character death, Canonical character death, Loss of faith, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, AU - human, non-graphic(-ish) sexual content between men
Pairings: James Novak/Amelia Novak, Dean Winchester/Castiel, Jimmy Novak/Dean Winchester/Castiel
Summary: James Novak met the love of his life when he was ten, by the time he was barely thirty his life revolves around finding the next thing to help him forget that she and their daughter are dead. Then one day he breaks his usual pattern and enter one green eyed man singing in a bar bringing him home.
It’s a story about all consuming loss but far more important is it a story about new beginnings and hope.
Teaser:
It’s another half hour of songs he mostly doesn’t know but which seem even more
hauntingly beautiful for it, before the green eyed man puts down his guitar to the sparse but genuine applause of the patrons; Jimmy has a hand wrapped around his still almost full beer bottle and eyes half closed in concentration trying to hear every word from the stranger’s mouth. It’s only the strong arm wrapping itself around his shoulder that keeps him from falling to the floor as warm, soft lips press against his cheek and a smiling voice whispers,
“I’m so happy to see you.”
Another bottle’s placed in front of them and the arm’s pulling Jimmy closer to the stranger, insistently yanking until he gets the hint and gracelessly tumbles from the bar stool into the man’s firm chest punching a startled laugh from him and then a hand pressed against the small of his back leads Jimmy towards a table in the dark corner, guiding him down on the couch-like seating, the stranger sliding in, crowding him against the wall. The musician takes a long, slow drag of his beer, lids closing over green eyes in enjoyment and Jimmy’s eyes are glued to the way the man’s Adam’s apple goes up and down as the cold liquid makes its way down the man’s throat. Not until the movement stops does he raise his gaze once more locking eyes with the stranger, transfixed by the way his green eyes seem to darken as the bottle is slowly taken from his (Jimmy’s eyes drop to look) slightly reddened and wet looking lips.
There’s no telling who moves first, but there’s no denying the heat soaring through him as he opens his mouth to grant access to the stranger’s tongue, the taste of him exploding on Jimmy’s taste buds and it’s all too much or maybe in no way enough as it washes over him, sweeps him away on a wave of things he hasn’t felt for so painfully long; there’s no way to process it beyond the feeling of his skin being too tight to contain him or the way flames lick over his skin where they’re connected. Their lips and the musician’s hands making their way under Jimmy’s shirt, calloused fingers rubbing gentle circles on his skin even as the man leans closer, nips at his lower lip only to pull away with a light smile. The green eyed man’s voice is hoarse and impossibly deeper than before when he says,
“Let’s get out of here.”









