Chapter Text
It was already a wickedly hot Texas day as Jesse Custer jogged towards his church. It was Sunday morning, and he was late. Not even for any of the good reasons, either─ he hadn't stayed up ungodly early drinking with Cass, no, none of the usual trouble he seemed to find himself in. Jesse had just slept through his alarm, and as such, Emily was steadfastly playing through the intro hymn (for what he could only hope was the first time) as he opened the door and entered the church.
Half-finished sermon tucked under his arm, Jesse smiled at the congregation, trying catch his breath and not to walk too quickly as he made his way to the pulpit. Setting down his papers, Jesse opened the Bible and covertly glanced down to make sure he'd properly buttoned his shirt. The morning was a blur after he'd stumbled out of bed─ jerking on his pants, accidentally nicking himself as he hurriedly shaved, running his fingers through his hair as he dashed out the door. What a mess.
Taking a deep breath, Jesse apologized for keeping them waiting. A faint tremor of laughter passed through the congregation. Jesse looked over to Emily smiling at him from behind the piano.
"Alright. If y'all will turn to the book of Ezekiel..."
- - -
Midway through his sermon, the sound of a kid playing on their mom's cell phone drew Jesse's attention. He swept his eyes over the people sitting in the church. Cassidy, he noticed, was posted up in his usual pew in the very back. Tulip was nowhere in sight. Jesse still remembered that first Sunday morning when he had seen both of them in church, Tulip sitting just ahead of Cass, both wearing sunglasses against the brightness coming through the windows. It was like a collision of his past and his future. Being around Tulip again after the distance between them, it felt like… like remembering how to speak a language he hadn’t heard aloud in years. She was a part of him, always would be. And Cassidy, that was almost spooky, the way the man showed up and fell into Jesse’s life like he’d always belonged there. It had to be fate; there was no other way to explain finding such a kindred spirit out of the blue.
Jesse paused to flip through the pages of the Bible open on the pulpit in front of him. He spared a second to glance back at where Cassidy was slouched. There were only a dozen or so folks in church that morning─ it was the beginning of vacation and a lot of people were out of town. Not that it made that big a difference on church attendance anyway. The bright morning sun reflected off Cassidy’s shades and Jesse wondered if the man was even awake. Smiling gently, Jesse found his place and continued reading.
After they had said a prayer (a rather meandering if heartfelt one─ Jesse was having trouble focusing) they closed out the sermon and he stepped down from the pulpit. The handful of people in the church headed to the meeting room to get coffee and chat. Jesse stopped to talk to an elderly couple he'd known for years who had recently had a grandchild. As he congratulated them, he realized out of the corner of his eye that someone was standing dead still at the end of the aisle. A quick glance confirmed it was Cass. There was… something, the slight angle of his head, the tension in his posture, that set off a warning in Jesse's mind. Saying his goodbyes, Jesse walked over to his friend. Cass shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn denim jacket and grinned toothily.
“Nice job this mornin', Padre.”
“Thanks. You, uh, you doing okay?” Jesse hesitated, then clapped his hand lightly on Cass’s shoulder. For a split second, Jesse swore he felt Cass shiver under his touch. Weird.
“Oh sure, I’m peachy. Let’s go get some caffeine, aye?" Cassidy held Jesse's gaze long enough for the preacher to relax and drop his hand. Whatever tension Jesse had noticed earlier evaporated, and the pair of them headed into the meeting room.
Emily was fighting with the new espresso machine when they slipped through the door. A smile and a nod from Jesse had Cassidy splitting off to go over and offer his moral support (and, perhaps, even try to help). Jesse went to check in with Eugene and his father. God help him, but Jesse couldn’t help chuckling to himself at the sound of Emily’s raised voice carrying across the room, politely telling Cass to leave her alone with his highly appreciated help. Lord, but that woman was a saint.
"Cassidy, listen, we're just trying to do something nice for the church here─"
“I’m only saying, back in Ireland we didn’t have all this froo-froo cappuccino shite, and we got along just fine!”
Jesse decided to go play referee before things got too heated.
“Is that what’s wrong with you?" Sliding between them, Jesse leaned against the counter. "Maybe if you’d had more lattes growing up, you wouldn’t have had to seek solace in other vices.”
Emily bit back whatever retort she had ready, rolling her eyes at both of them. Cassidy clicked his tongue and did his best to look affronted, but the effect was mostly ruined by the wide grin on his face.
Shaking his head, Jesse turned to Emily. "Hey, thanks for your help again today. The piano playing you did on Amazing Grace was real nice.”
Emily’s expression shifted, morphing into something entirely different as she stammered her thanks and conceded the fight with the espresso machine. Handing off steaming mugs to Jesse and Cass both, she excused herself to go help with tidying up.
“It’s a mite cruel of you to lead her on that way.” Cassidy leaned beside Jesse at the counter, sipping at his coffee with a grimace.
Jesse snorted. "She’s made her choices. I’ve told her how things are... Emily's an adult, not some lovesick teenager."
“We’re adults, but it doesn’t stop us from gettin' into trouble.” Cass’ eyes flicked over Jesse’s face, noticeably lingering on his mouth, and Jesse had to forcibly steer his thoughts away from the other night, when they had been drinking and things had... gone downhill.
- - -
It had all started as per usual, with the two of them chatting and sharing enough booze to pickle a small elephant. They'd been trading stories about bad bar fights─ the pain of a fist connecting with the cartilage of your nose, the loud rush of blood in your ears when a guy just looks at you wrong. Jesse had unbuttoned his shirt to show off a nasty scar that ran down his stomach, courtesy of some asshole with a broken beer bottle.
"Jesus─ ah, no offense─ that looks rough." Cassidy had whistled, blowing a long trail of cigarette smoke into the air. "You needed stitches?"
"Yeah, I got my girl to sew it up, actually..." Jesse blinked, trailing off as he remembered more about that particular incident. They'd walked away the winners, but Tulip was pissed, punching a hole in the wall of their shitty motel room before she helped him with his injuries. She did a good job with the stitches, quick and clean, but then afterwards she had ridden him so hard on the tiny motel bed that he'd popped a few and had to sew it up all over again. It was worth it, though. Jesse could still remember vividly how good it was, how alive he felt, Tulip's anger and the smell of sweat and blood, the way her hips moved against him−
"You're lookin' a little red in the face, Padre, you thinkin' about your lassie sticking her needle in you?"
Jesse half-choked on a mouthful of whiskey, wiping away the drops that rolled down his chin.
"She sure could stick it, if that's what you're asking." Chuckling, more than a little tipsy, Jesse winked at Cassidy. To his pleasant surprise, a little redness creeped into Cass' cheeks as well. "So what about you? I guess you don't have any fun scars, what, with the healin' thing..."
Cassidy's expression changed instantly, a dark sort of smile spreading on his face. "I've got a few, but you probably don't want to hear about them."
"Ah come on, I showed you mine." Jesse looked the other man up and down with interest, trying to imagine what kind of scars his clothes might be hiding.
A few moments of silence hung between them before Cassidy stubbed out the cigarette in his fingers. "Well... this story isn't quite as fun as yours, sadly."
Cass shrugged out of his jacket, shifting around in the pew to pull it off. He glanced up, checking to see if Jesse was still watching as Cassidy pulled his threadbare shirt over his head.
"There. Aside from the bite-marks, these are the only scars I have left."
Pointing at the faint lines that ran under his pectorals, Cassidy sighed. "From a few decades ago... Right painful that was."
Jesse squinted in the dim light of the church. "What's that from?"
Another silence lingered between them before Cass smirked and answered him.
"Had a wee bit of cosmetic surgery, y'know. Hard living as the handsome bastard I am with a great pair of tits."
Cassidy could see the realization break over Jesse's face. He steeled himself for what might come next, but still managed to be caught off guard when Jesse giggled.
"Damn. If I had a nice pair, I'm not sure I'd be able to let them go." Biting his lip, Jesse stood up and leaned over Cassidy to get a better look.
Cass recovered quick, shooting Jesse a wicked smirk. He realized that he was relieved… a part of him, deep inside, had suspected that a good man like Jesse Custer wasn't going to judge him, but Cassidy had lived long enough not to depend on those feelings.
"That does look like it hurt, though. Why'd that leave a scar, if you don't get nothin' from being shot or stabbed?"
"It's a bit murky, but if I leave a thing to heal up natural, it tends to stick around and leave a mark. Like the tats, see, I have to let them heal up for a week or two before I drink any you-know-what. Otherwise they'd just heal back to square one." Cassidy ran his fingers down his arms, trying not to feel self-conscious as Jesse scrutinized him. Christ, it'd been ages since Cass had felt anything like that, but for some reason Jesse's open curiosity made him... shy, for lack of a better word.
"For this stunt, I had to go for months without blood to let it heal. I'd topped off before they did it, but... it still hurt like hell." Meeting Jesse's eyes, Cassidy tried to look nonchalant. "Anaesthesia doesn't work on me anymore, apparently. So I got to watch." Jesse had leaned closer while Cass was talking, so he heard the quiet gasp the preacher gave in response.
"Jesus." Jesse reached out impulsively to trace the scars with his fingertips. They were faint, faded with time, but he could still imagine the pain Cassidy must have endured.
Cass stopped breathing when Jesse touched him. He knew it was just curiosity, had to be, but the gentleness in the action made Cassidy's chest tight. He couldn't help but shudder, and instead of Jesse jerking his hand away like he expected, the other man pressed his palm flat against Cassidy’s ribs, steadying him.
"You're crazy, Cass. I can't imagine..." Jesse licked his lips, watching the uncertainty flicker over Cassidy's face. Leaning down slow enough to give him a chance to push away, Jesse kissed him, brief and chaste, barely a breath before he drew back.
Cassidy felt it like a punch in the gut. He had been so caught up in gauging Jesse’s acceptance that he hadn’t considered anything past that. Certainly not the warm press of a mouth over his own.
“Sorry, if you’re not, uh…” The low rasp of Jesse’s voice broke the quiet. His hand still rested gently on Cassidy’s chest. “I just wanted to. Do that.”
Reaching out to grab the unbuttoned shirt still hanging from Jesse’s shoulders, Cass pulled him in sharply.
“I’d like you to do it again.”
- - -
The night had ended in a blur, but Jesse recalled pulling Cassidy onto his lap and the two of them grinding against each other like teenagers. It had been several hours after he woke up the next morning when Jesse remembered that Cass had tugged open his pants, warm fingers stroking him until Jesse came all over his hand.
In the soft midday light of the church meeting room, the memory made Jesse blush.
“If you’re talking about what happened Thursday night… y’know, things just… got out of hand.”
Cassidy laughed, hard. “Honestly, I think they got into hand, Jess─”
“Hush! Behave, folks are listening.”
A moment passed, and then Cassidy sat down his mug of coffee, stepping in close to where Jesse leaned against the table. The angle of the kitchenette blocked most of the congregation from view, but it was still far too public for Jesse to feel at ease.
“I am behaving, like a damn saint,” Cass growled. “I know you cut yourself shaving this morning. I had to sit through that bloody long sermon and smell it, and it’s all I can do not to push you down right here and suck on your neck until you beg me to stop, Jesse Custer.”
The tone of Cassidy’s voice brooked no argument. Jesse stared back at him, shocked, but something kept him from chastising the other man. There was a naked honesty in the way Cass was watching him, head tilted down towards Jesse’s high collar. Avarice and lust were sins Jesse knew well, but the earnest desire on Cassidy’s face was like worship, like a prayer.
In a different situation, Jesse might have hesitated, but as it stood he knew exactly what he was going to do.
“Go upstairs.” Jesse felt the power roll out of him, saw the snap of recognition as Cassidy breathed in sharply.
“I’ll be waiting on you, Padre.” Turning away, Cassidy made a beeline for the stairs that led up to the church attic. The parting glance he had shot at Jesse made the preacher’s pulse thrum loudly in his ears.
Even so, Jesse took his time, speaking with the few members of the congregation that were still lingering on the other side of the room. He saw Emily out to her car, helping her to carry some boxes of donated clothes. By the time Jesse finally got back inside and locked the doors of the church, it was all he could do to climb the stairs and nudge open the door to the attic space.
Jesse smiled as he walked in.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”