Missing Starts- Part Two
Writer's Name: marie_de_sade
Artist's Name: phaelsafe
Genres: Angsty, romance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, DP, incest, (temporary)mute!Dean, (temporary) mute!Castiel
Wordcount: ~18,000
Pairing: Wincestiel- Begins with Destiel
Summary: After months of searching Sam finally finds a way to bring Dean and Castiel back from Purgatory. His joyful reunion is cut short when he finds that Purgatory has changed the two, leaving them little more then animals.
Sam doesn’t sleep much that night. He tosses and turns and replays Castiel’s words over and over in his head. The sunrise forces him to get out of bed, but for a long time he just looks up the stairs and dreads facing the angel again. When he finally manages to drag himself upstairs, he finds Castiel asleep, or whatever it is he does when he’s curled up against Dean, and his brother looking like he just woke up himself.
“Hey, Dean.” Sam greats with a forced smile but Dean just shoots him a weary glance. Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes and walks over to the makeshift living room, flicking on the television.
“You know, if you were me, you’d tell me to man up and get over it,” Sam grumbles falling back onto the couch with a huff. “I just let you go around growling and eating raw meat like a damn caveman.”
Dean doesn’t respond, obviously. Sam isn’t even mad at Dean. Okay, he was a little mad -- less than twenty-four hours ago, he had tried to make Sam stick around while he screwed his boyfriend -- but mostly, he was just frustrated.
There wasn’t anything good on TV, either not that the three channels the television got ever had anything good. Sam pretends to watch it but his mind is still focused on the man behind him. “Even Castiel doesn’t just sit around feeling sorry for himself.”
Sam flips through the small selection of channels, trying to not let his annoyance show. The news, a daytime talk show and a Spanish soap opera flicker past, like Sam’s life isn’t already full of drama and tragedy. “Sam.”
Sam is sure he must have misheard that. Castiel must be awake, or maybe it’s just the wind; there’s no way that was Dean. He sits up and looks behind the couch, and Dean’s looking at him with an annoyed expression. They lock eyes and Sam asks, “Did you just speak?”
“Sam,” he repeats. “Cake.”
“Cake? You mean pie, do you want me to get pie?” Sam asks a little too quickly.
Dean shakes his head. “Cake hole. Shut it.”
Sam just about bursts into tears at those words. He practically runs over to Dean, drops to his knees and screw Dean’s personal space because Sam reaches for his brother. Dean’s foot collides with Sam’s chest, refusing to let him any closer and the hunter vigorously shakes his head. “It’s okay,” Sam chokes out. “I can wait.”
He’s too goddamn happy to be embarrassed at the amount of tears that are flowing down his cheeks.
***
The next morning, Sam’s struggling to get the crappy stove working. When it refused to light for the twentieth time, Sam kicks it, too frustrated to notice the pain that shot up through his foot. “Did you know he could talk?”
Castiel looks up from the bowl in his lap -- instant pancake mix that was way too watery to make anything decent. Castiel and Dean are practically attached at the hip and Sam would have found it hard to believe that Castiel hadn’t known that Dean started talking. Sam had been thinking about it all night that the angel had probably been lying to him even though he knew how hard everything was on Sam. Castiel stirs the spoon around in the mixture and quietly thinks. Sam can tell he’s considering lying again, but he slowly nods his head instead. “I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He had nothing to say to you.” Sam isn't sure if Castiel meant for it to come out so harsh but it cuts right through Sam, regardless.
“This is all your fault,” Sam hisses out “Dean wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you.”
Castiel’s eyes widen and he gapes at Sam because he’s actually angry this time, not frustrated or annoyed. His body is tense and rigid and there’s a smoldering heat behind his eyes that makes Castiel shrink away. “So why does he trust you and not me?”
Castiel’s mouth opens to answer but Sam jumps in first, “Oh, yeah, your profound bound.”
The bowl clatters when Castiel stands up, the liquid pancakes spilling onto the wood floor. “I’m sorry.” Castiel quickly apologizes before he turns and rushes down the stairs. Sam’s not sure exactly what he was apologizing for.
***
He tries not to think about it, but he’s jealous of Cas. The angel who can get inside Dean’s head, who can touch him and calm him down in ways Sam can’t. And at the same time, he’s jealous of Dean too. Sometimes, he wants to yell at Castiel and ask him if it was worth giving up everything just so he could be Dean’s little bitch. It’s cruel and malicious so Sam never says it, he just smiles and plays nice because he’s being supportive, because Dean’s given so much already that Sam can’t take this away from him. Still, they both live in their own little world; they forget that Sam is there unless he has something they want, or need something to entertain them for a while.
Sam sits on the stairs that night with the door cracked open and his face buried in his hands. He listens to Dean and Castiel as they speak in hushed voices, Castiel trying to teach Dean new words and his brother repeating them in a shaky whisper.
“Hair.” Castiel tells him and Sam can picture his slim finger running through Dean’s short hair.
“Hair?” Dean repeats.
“Eyes.” Castiel continues.
“Eyes.” Dean says with a bit more confidence. His finger brushes gingerly against the skin below Castiel’s eyes. “Blue.”
“That’s very good, Dean,” Castiel tells him softly. Sam doesn’t understand it. Castiel treats Dean like he’s an infant with a bad temper, he babies him and cleans up his messes and when he talks to him, his words are soft and slow like Dean is an idiot. Despite all that, Dean remains glued to his side, and it makes Sam furious. Sam is the one that brought them home; Sam is the one that takes care of them.
“I…” Dean trails off and the uncertainty in his voice makes Sam peek through the door.
“It’s okay,” Castiel holds one of Dean’s hands in his and runs a thumb gently across his palm. “Take your time.”
Dean leans forward, cups a hand against Castiel’s jaw and presses their lips together. It’s soft and tender and nothing like the rough, feral way Dean has claimed Castiel before. And it’s all Sam can take; he gets up and walks down the stairs as quietly as he can. It should be heartwarming but Sam just keeps replaying the sight of the two of them over and over and it makes his stomach twist into a tight knot. The two of them had been gone so long, trapped together and fighting for their lives, that they’ve built their lives around each other and left no room for Sam. So this is the rest of his life, watching Dean and Castiel live a life without him, watch them dote on each other and shy away from him. It’s sickening to think about but the only way he can even keep them is if Dean never gets better. It makes Sam hate himself just a little more that he’d even think that but he’s sure that if Dean got his senses back he’d be out the door before Sam even had a chance to beg him to stay.
Sam crawls into his bed and pulls the worn blanket over his head, thinking it was another night where he was going to fall asleep wallowing in self-pity. He hears the stairs creak and knows Castiel is coming down to try and patch things up. And it all really just makes it worse because it’s like Cas and Dean are dangling bait in front of Sam just to yank it away at the last minute.
“Sam?” He considers just pretending to be asleep and ignoring Castiel until he goes away but knows the angel is far too patient for that. He rolls over onto his side and lets the blanket slip down his chest. Castiel stands at the foot of the mattress and looks sheepishly at Sam.
“Oh, so you decided to start talking to me again?” Sam snorts. He knows he’s acting like a child, knows he’s just going to push Castiel away again but it’s hard not to let his bitterness seep out.
“You were angry with me.” Castiel kneels beside the mattress and looks away; Sam just catches the shamed look painted over his eyes. “I am sorry, Sam. I should have told you about Dean.”
“Yeah, you should have.” Castiel flinches at Sam’s rough tone, and Sam bites the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping again. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been a bit of jerk the last couple days.”
“It’s nothing I don’t deserve.” Castiel lowers his eyes again. Sam’s still mad and even though the issue over Dean talking was only a small part of it, he didn’t have anyone else to vent his anger at. Seeing the pitiful look on Castiel's face made it really hard to stay angry with him though, and Sam decides that staying mad wasn’t going to fix anything.
“How long has he been able to talk?”
“Two weeks, perhaps a little more.”
“You know how hard this has all been for me,” Sam has to look away from Castiel’s downcast eyes or he’ll lose his nerve and stop talking. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Most of what he said was inconsequential. I thought you would find it frustrating to try and talk to him.”
“You still should have told me.”
“I know.” Castiel inches forward, his features drawn with desperation. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Sam grimaced “I think you’ve apologized enough.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It was a shitty thing to do but it’s nothing to beat yourself up over.” Castiel's whole body tenses under Sam’s gaze to the point where the angel was practically shaking. Concerned, Sam reaches out and puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, which only made him flinch away from the hunter. “Cas?”
“I-” Castiel’s voice cracks.
“What’s wrong?”
“I remember what I did -- I remember everything,” Castiel admits with a shaky voice, “and I know there is nothing I can do to make up for it.”
“I shouldn’t have said any of that.” Sam says quickly when he sees the whites of Castiel eyes turn an awful red as he holds back tears. “I was just angry.”
“No, you’re right.” Castiel draws in a ragged breath. “And when Dean remembers, he won’t- he won’t-”
Castiel’s shoulders hunch up, and when Sam sees tears threaten to spill from his eyes, he instinctively pulls Castiel into a hug. The angel is stiff at first and Sam almost lets go before Castiel relaxes in his hold. “Hey, it’s okay. Dean’s already forgiven you.”
“That was before we were sent to purgatory.”
“You two kept each other safe.”
Castiel pauses before he mumbles into Sam’s shoulder, “What about you?”
“What?” Sam breathes.
“Do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do.” Sam’s not completely sure which one of them leans in first, though his mind bitterly thinks that only he would be stupid enough to do this. He’s sure that he must be dreaming, this can’t possibly be real, Castiel can’t be pulling him closer, that he isn’t running his fingers through Sam’s hair.
Sam leans into Castiel, slowly pushing him onto his back and covering the angel’s smaller body with his own. He could feel each of the angel’s ribs through the paper-thin fabric of his shirt and wants nothing more than to slip his hands under the man’s clothes and feel his warm skin. But he knows that if he does, he won’t be able to stop, not until he sees Castiel fall apart, and not until he works a scream out of the silent angel.
“Sam?” Castiel asks when he starts to pull away.
“I’m sorry,” Sam chokes out “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Sam-”
“I was just-” Sam takes a shaky breath and his fingers stumble over each other as he tries to button up his shirt. Castiel just stares at him, seemingly too shocked to move, and Sam begins to curse himself. “You’re with Dean, I know that. I don’t know why I would do something so stupid.”
“Sam, listen to me.” Castiel reaches Sam but the hunter jumps to his feet and scrambles up the stairs. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to see Castiel look at him with sympathetic eyes and tell him he understands and that he forgives him. Or worse, find that his blue eyes hold barely masked disgust, that Castiel will flinch away from his touch or tell Dean what he did. The younger Winchester can handle being lonely but he can’t deal with them hating him.
By the time he reaches the top of the stairs Dean is awake. He doesn’t growl or tense up, just looks at Sam with tired, confused eyes. Sam can hear Castiel’s footsteps behind him and he heads straight for the front door, not bothering to close the door behind him as he heads toward the dense cover of the trees.
***
Castiel is screwing with him, Sam’s can’t think of another explanation. Sam had expected him to be angry and for Dean to be furious, but when he comes back inside the next morning, the two barely look up. It’s just business as usual for the next few days, and Sam thanks whatever is left of heaven that they don’t talk about the kiss.
But Castiel isn’t acting normal. If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d think that Cas was teasing him. He always stands so close, and when they’re at the dinner table together, Castiel would place his hand on Sam’s thigh while he eats and act like it’s completely normal. When they sit and watch the television, he rests his head on Sam’s shoulder. Dean doesn’t even bat an eyelash at his angel’s sudden change of behavior. At first, Sam thought that that meant Castiel’s behavior didn’t actually mean anything but now he’s not so sure.
"Doesn’t that hurt?" Sam asks, handing a potato to Castiel. The angel looks at him confused and Sam motions to the dark pattern of hickies splattered around his neck and shoulders. It’s something he never felt comfortable asking before, but at this point in his life, he figures there’s no point being shy. It seems unusual that Castiel is so quick to heal a tiny scratch or a little tear in their clothing but he lets all those bruises remain.
Castiel shrugs and takes the potato from Sam. "Not particularly."
"Why don’t you heal them?" Sam picks up another potato and scrubs it clean in a bucket of water.
"Dean likes them,” Castiel says simply. Sam thinks it’s a little pointless that Dean’s still marking his territory when there’s only the three of them. Though, to be fair, Sam was fairly close to having his way with Castiel just a few days ago.
"That's... kind of weird." Sam continues to wash the vegetables and Castiel peels them. Sam isn't sure why he bothers making so much food; Dean still prefers meat and Castiel doesn’t actually need to eat.
“You’ve been distracted lately.” Castiel says off-handedly, dropping a potato onto of the pile with the rest.
“Sorry,” is all Sam mumbles out as his mind reels drop it, just drop it.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Sam asks. He glances past Castiel’s shoulder and over to Dean who is staring out the window, looking bored.
“About us.” Castiel has dropped the peeler next to a half done potato and turns to face Sam.
“There is no us.” Sam says in a hushed voice. He can’t believe that they’re having this conversation in front of Dean.
Castiel almost looks hurt at Sam’s words, but he swallows down all of that and moves closer to Sam, blocking his view of Dean. “But we-”
“You know, why don’t you cook the potatoes tonight?” Sam interrupts. He dries his hands and tosses the towel back onto the counter. “You know how to work the stove.”
The hunter pushes past Castiel and heads to his room in the basement; and if Cas were human, the conversation would have ended there. But Cast is an angel, and on top of that, he’s stubborn, so he poofs in between Sam and the door.
“Cas, please, can we just not- not talk about it?” Sam pleads and tries to push past Castiel, but the angel refuses to budge. “Look, I’m not going to try anything like that again so can we just drop it? It’s not-”
Castiel reaches up and grabs a handful of Sam’s hair, tugging him closer and silencing the hiss he makes by gently pressing their lips together. It doesn’t go any farther than that; there’s no tongue, no bodies pressing together. Castiel doesn’t even close his eyes, but it's enough to make him freeze in place. When Castiel pulls away, there’s a small, slightly triumphant, smile on his face. “Are you going to listen to me now?
“I’m not a child, Sam.” Castiel lays his hands against the hunter’s chest and forces him to step away from the door. “I am fully capable of making decisions.”
“I know that!” Sam snaps. “I just- I’m not completely sure what’s happening right now.”
Castiel’s lips twitch into a half smile and his grip on his friend tightens. Then he’s being shoved down, rather roughly, till his back hits the ground and the dark-haired male crawls into his lap and pins his shoulder to the ground.
“Cas?” The angel runs a hand down Sam’s chest. “Cas, what are you doing?”
Sam looks over to his brother for help, expecting another jealous fit, but Dean closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. If Sam didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that Dean was smirking. “You are amazingly thick-headed, Sam Winchester.”
“I don’t-” Sam is cut off when Castiel leans down and kisses him. When he pulls away Castiel looks over at Dean, who gives a barely there nod, and then Castiel pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. “Cas, what’s-”
“Shhh,” Castiel soothes. Sam watches him roll his shoulders but he still has no idea what’s going on till he hears the rustle of feathers. One second, he’s staring up at Castiel, then he blinks and there are suddenly two giant wings protruding from his back. They flutter a bit and the hunter has to grab onto Castiel’s hips to keep the angel from tumbling off. Sam just stares at Castiel, long enough that it would probably be considered rude in different circumstances. They’re smaller than he would have expected from the large shadows he’s seen them cast, fluffy on top that trails off to large smooth feathers on the end.
“You can touch them if you want,” Castiel tells him shyly. The brunette lifts one of his hands up and gently brushes against some of the feathers. He instantly pulls away, unsure if that was okay but when Castiel doesn’t complain, he reaches up again. He’s a little bolder the second time but he still barely touches him because these are Castiel’s wings and he’s terrified of somehow ruining them. “It’s difficult to do this, manifesting my wings, but we wanted you to see them too.”
“You don’t have to.” Sam says quickly, yanking his hand back. He doesn’t even have time to consider what Castiel meant by we before Dean kneels down beside his head. Dean actually rolls his eyes at the slightly panicked look on his brother’s face. Dean grabs his little brother’s hand and moves it back over to the angel’s wings. Sam curls his fingers gently amongst the feathers, admiring how soft they are, but Dean just grunts and tightens his hold on his hand. Sam doesn’t understand what Dean wants, his brother shoots him a look like it should be obvious, but it’s not like he’s an expert on angel wings.
Dean laces his fingers between his brother’s and forces him to tightly grab a handful of the angel’s feathers. Before Sam can voice any concerns, Dean makes them both yank on Castiel’s wing. Cas lets out a small cry and Dean just smugly tells his brother, “Harder.”
“Are you okay?” Sam asks Castiel, running his free hand up his side. “Did that hurt?”
“No,” he replies, a little breathlessly.
“He likes it,” The older Winchester tells him, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his lips, and pulls on the feathers once more.
“Oh.” Sam swallows nervously and tries pulling a little harder. A shiver runs through Cas and his fingers curl into Sam’s shirt. Dean’s hand releases his brother’s and travels up to the softer feathers on top.
“Dean,” Castiel groans, wings fluttering behind him, “focus.”
Dean makes a face but he pulls back, resting on his heels while Castiel tries to regain some composure. Sam’s hand drops from Castiel’s wing and he asks, “Focus on what?”
Castiel smiles at Sam, leans down on his elbows, and kisses the younger Winchester. It wasn’t the soft, shy kiss he’d been expecting, like all the other kisses they’ve shared before. The angel threads his fingers through Sam’s hair and pushes his tongue between Sam’s lips. The hunter’s a little shocked that Castiel could even be this aggressive but the angel is pushing against him as much as their positions would allow.
One of Castiel’s hands untangles itself from Sam’s hair and travels down Sam’s chest, pushing up under the hunter’s shirt and brushes across his nipple. The fact that Dean is right next to them slips Sam’s mind as his hands begin to wander across Castiel’s back, mapping out the bones, the dips and curves until nervous fingers reach the place when skin meets feathers.
He runs his thumb along the hinge of Castiel’s wings, feeling the muscles tense and the feathers rustle. He pinches the tender skin and the angel moans into his mouth
“Quiet.”
“What?” Castiel asks dazedly.
“Not so loud,” Dean orders. The blue eyed man shoots his hunter a look that makes Sam worry he might smite his brother right then and there. “You’re too noisy.”
“Well,” Castiel bites, voice deep and rough “when you have sex with him, you can do it your way.”
The youngest Winchester blushes at the comment and the older pushes on Castiel’s shoulder with a scowl on his lips. Castiel looks equally as unamused. He grips Sam’s shoulder and his stomach flips when the world fades in a flutter of wings just to reappear just as quickly. “We will have more privacy here.”
“Were you going to try having sex with me right in front of my brother?”
“Why are you still talking?” Castiel asks before diving back into his arms. For once Sam just shuts up and listens.
Sam sucks on an old bruise his brother left and Castiel arches against him, wings flaring out and knocking a bottle of borax off the bench. They both look over at the bottle as the cleaning liquid spills over the dirty floor. Castiel’s cheeks are flushed and Sam’s not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or just from sheer talent of Sam’s part. When the puddle threatens to soak into the mattress, Castiel leans down and touches the spilled liquid and it evaporates into nothing. “I apologize; it’s rather cramped down here.”
Castiel gasps, eyes snapping shut and just like that his wings disappear, Sam’s hand are now grasping at air. Castiel groans and drops his head on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s difficult to concentrate.”
“That’s okay,” Sam flips them over and pins Castiel on his back “in fact it makes it easier.”
Sam hooks his fingers into the elastic band of Castiel’s pants and tugs, the smaller man’s erection slapping against his stomach and hisses at the cold air that hits him. Sam settles between Castiel’s legs and runs a hand up his thigh. “How do you want to do this?”
Castiel pulls Sam down and wraps his arms around his shoulders. “I want to feel you,” he whispers, rubbing his hips against Sam’s, “inside me. Please, Sam.”
He gives a mute nod and sucks two fingers into his mouth, lathering them in spit before he reaches down between the two of them. Castiel makes more noise while Sam’s is prepping him than he’s made all the months he’s been there and Sam falls in love with the way his name rolls of the angels lips. Really, he would be satisfied to work Castiel to climax just with his fingers as long as he could watch the way he moans and stutters, the way his nails dig into the bed and sweet collects against his collarbone.
But being with Castiel was worth every uneasy moment that led up to it. The way they move together, there’s no awkward fumbling like all the others that came before him, it’s just the two of them breathing into each other’s skin. They stay tangled up together long after they’re down, trying to keep warm and safe in each other’s arms.
“You’re beautiful,” Sam tells him. Castiel’s brow wrinkles at the comment. Dean must not be one for pillow talk. As they lay there, sweaty and panting, Sam replays the images of them together over and over. He picks apart every detail, examines the look in Castiel’s eyes as he came and wonders if what he thought was love might have been something else. And it all leads to one horrible conclusion. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
The angel’s smile slips away. “Did you not enjoy it?”
“No, I mean yes, but that’s not the point.” Sam grips the smaller man’s shoulders but his eyes skitter away in shame. “You didn’t have to do that; I’ll help the two of you regardless.”
“You…think I would give myself to you in exchange for shelter?” Blues eyes harden and Castiel jerks out of Sam’s hold. “You think Dean would let me do that?”
“It’s just, this all really sudden.”
“Sudden?” Castiel echoes.
“Yeah, one second you and Dean were these raving animals clinging to each other and now you’re…” Sam motions to the space between them on the bed. Castiel’s eyes soften and he kneels down next to Sam resting his hand over the anti-possession sigil tattooed on his skin.
“I believe this has been building since you first shook my hand on Halloween.” He traces the dark lines on Sam’s chest and smile fondly at the memory. “I think you’re just afraid to let yourself have something good.”
***
Castiel is still there when Sam wakes up, lying on his side, twirling Sam’s hair between his fingers and just watching the hunter sleep. “You’re still here.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I thought you might go back to Dean.” Sam reaches for Castiel’s hand and slots their fingers together. Morning light seeps in through the window, illuminating Castiel’s skin and it makes Sam wonder what his wings must look like against natural light; wonders if they have deep grey shadows or a rainbow sheen when the light hits just right.
“It’s almost noon.” Castiel says, breaking Sam out of his thoughts.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked peaceful.” Castiel turns around and picks up the pile of clothes they left on the floor and drops it on the bed. “But I imagine Dean is hungry by now.”
Castiel takes the time to actually get dressed instead of just poofing his clothes on but he still has to sit patiently and wait while Sam layers his own clothes on. Sam expects to have to do his own little walk of shame between Dean and the kitchen, it makes him pause at the top of the stairs but Castiel pushes him through the door. Dean gives him a sly smile, the same kind he used to give whenever he saw Sam hitting on a girl at some bar. Sam heads to the kitchen and Dean pulls Castiel into his lap, whispering something into his ear while Sam opens the fridge.
“You hungry?” Sam asks, head stuck in the fridge while he tries find something edible.
“Yes.” Sam grabs a half used loaf of bread and turns around to find Dean and Castiel sitting at the table. It’s the first time Dean done that since he got back, Sam’s not sure if he’s supposed to reward him but he decides he probably shouldn’t treat his brother like a dog.
“What do you want?”
“Food.” Dean snaps as he drums his fingers against the table.
“Can you be a little more specific?” Sam sits down next to Castiel. He knows not to sit on the other side of Dean, or else he’ll feel cornered and just run off back to his safe place. He knows Dean is frustrated, he doesn’t like to talk much but Sam also knows if he doesn’t keep Dean talking he’ll never learn.
“I…” Dean’s eyes dart between Sam and Castiel. “Double, French…jack?”
Sam mind whirled around what any of that could possible mean and came up empty. Dean could tell he wasn’t making any sense and his lips twisted in uncertainty. “Curly?”
“I don’t know what you want?”
“He wants a double cheeseburger with pepper jack cheese and curly fries.”
“Yeah I can get that.” Sam begins to look for his wallet and keys. “It’s kind of freaky when you do that whole mind reading thing.”
“I didn’t feel like waiting for hours while you tried to decipher what he was saying,” Castiel shrugged. Sam puts his wallet in his coat pocket and grabs the keys, he writes down exactly what Dean wanted just in case.
“Do you want pie too?” The side of Dean’s mouth rises in contempt and Sam says, “You’re right, stupid question.”
“You should get a board game,” Castiel requests, absently picking at a loose thread on Dean’s shirt, “I remember there were board games at the hospital.”
“I don’t think Dean’s really in the mood for board games right now.” Sam says and Dean shakes his head in agreement.
“No one is ever in the mood for board games.” Castiel sighs disappointedly.
Sam actually has to drive to three different burger joints to find one with curly fries. He was so distracted with wanting to get Dean’s order perfect he forgets to get food for himself and Castiel and has to go back. The girl at the register gives him a funny look but doesn’t notice that he accidentally uses a credit card with a different name on it.
When he comes back home he finds Dean and Castiel in the same place he left them, his brother practically drooling when he sees the bag in Sam’s hand. “I hope you appreciate the effort I had to put in finding your curly fries.”
Sam sets the bag in front of Dean who promptly tears it to shreds to get his food. He dumps the fries out on the table and rips the metal foil off the burger before biting into it. His eyes practically roll back in his head and ketchup dribbles down his chin. Sam finds it a little disgusting to watch and it pretty sure Dean’s about to come in his pants. “Dean, please chew your food.”
“S’good,” Dean moaned around a mouthful of fries.
Castiel tugs on Sam’s sleeve but he finds it hard to look away. “Perhaps we should give Dean some time alone with his food.”
“Uh-yeah, maybe we should,” Sam agrees as Castiel pulls him towards the stairs.
Sam watches them sometimes, when they’re together. It’s always rough and fast but quiet, if any sound passes through Castiel’s lips Dean is quick to slam a hand over his mouth and keep him quiet. It’s a little creepy but by now Sam knows their routine, knows that Castiel will kiss Dean’s jaw and run fingers through his hair. Knows that Dean wastes no time on foreplay, just gets the angel naked on his back as quickly as he can. Dean bites, sometimes hard enough to draw blood, practically bends Castiel in half and tugs on his hair. Castiel gives as good as he takes; he claws at Dean’s back, nips at his jaw.
But now when he’s beneath Sam he’s like a totally different person. He combs his fingers through Sam’s long hair, peppers kisses along his neck and whisper in his ear, telling him how good he is. They move against each other, slow and precise. They take their time and touch as much as possible. And when they’re done he doesn’t push Castiel away like Dean does, doesn’t go back to being on red alert, they just relax inside the warmth of the too soft bed.
“Do you think Dean’s still eating?” Castiel pants and places a hand on top of Sam’s messy hair.
Sam lifts his head and rests his chin on Castiel’s chest.
“Why? Where you hoping to compare techniques?”
“No,” Castiel laughs softly, “I’m content here.”
Sam would have been happy to fall asleep on top of the angel but as hot as Sam found his jutting hip bones, they were currently digging uncomfortably into his stomach. He rolls onto his back and throws his arm over across his eyes when light from the window blinds him. Sam knows Castiel won’t actually fall asleep but he curls up against the younger Winchester anyways and Sam’s okay with pretending they’re a normal couple for once.
Sam doesn’t sleep long, the sun was still pouring in from the window but his skin was cold from where Castiel once was. Dean is tugging on Castiel attempting to pull him off the bed but there’s no way Dean can make an angel do something they don’t want to do.
“Dean.” Castiel whines trying to pull away from Dean and back onto the soft pillows next to Sam. Dean only tightens his grip and when Castiel still refuses to move and he buries his face into Castiel’s shoulder. Sam watches him nip and lick at Castiel’s neck. “That’s not fair.”
“I don’t think he’s gonna let up, Cas,” Sam smiles and for the briefest second Dean smiles back. Castiel huffs and manages to wiggle out of Dean’s hold long enough to pull his clothes on and then Dean was dragging him up the stairs.
Sam stretches and yawns before he follows. He finds the living room empty and the front door open. Dean and Cas are standing in front of the Impala, the hood propped open and the engine gleaming in the afternoon sun. Sam sits on the front steps and watches as Dean points to the separate parts and Castiel nods like he actually cares what’s inside the car.
That goes on for close to an hour. Sam goes inside to grab the six-pack in the fridge though he thinks it might be a little weird to sit around watching them while he drinks. He feels a like a bad babysitter. Around the time he reaches his fourth beer, Dean runs out of things to point at and walks back over to Sam. Castiel follows close behind and the two of them look curiously at the metal cans surrounding Sam.
“You want some?” Sam offers the half-full can to his brother. Dean grabs the beer and takes a sip, only to make a sour face and spit it out. He drops the beer and it spills out by his feet, Sam tries not to laugh but he never thought he’d see Dean pass up alcohol. “It’s an acquired taste, I guess.”
Castiel leans down to grab one of the cans, pops the tab open and chugs it back without so much as a breath in between. When he finishes his last gulp he tosses the empty can back on the porch and wipes the back of hand across his mouth. “I remember this.”
“Show off.” Dean grumbles. He grabs the last beer and, with some difficulty, opens it then valiantly tries to down it in one go like Castiel. Unfortunately the taste still makes him gag a little and it takes three attempts before he’s able to swallow down the whole can.
Sam thinks this might be the happiest he’s been in years.