Calm Before the Storm
Fic Title: Calm Before the Storm
Author: sincestiel
Fandom/Genre: SPN, Romance
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean, Dean/Castiel, slight Sam/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,320
Warnings: incest, language
Summary: They both say they’re okay with sharing, but Dean still feels like he needs to pick. And a huge part of him feels like he’s not allowed to choose either of them. Sam is his brother, Cas is his angel, and he can’t soil either of them.
This was never supposed to happen and Dean’s not even sure why it is. Despite a few close calls, he and Sam have never crossed the line between brothers and something more. It’s always been there, of course. An itch just under his skin, something deep and dark and sickeningly wrong growing inside of him. Aching and nauseating but woven through the very fabric of his being. As much a part of him as his green eyes or his freckles. Always just there.
And it’s the same for Sam. Dean’s always known Sam would be agreeable. Always known that what he wants is there for the taking. Sam’s always made that very clear even without saying it. But Dean’s the big brother and it’s his responsibility to keep them on the straight and narrow. So why is he leading Sammy astray now? After all these years and every time they’ve denied themselves?
They’re folding. The weight of an impending heavenly battle is too heavy. Their burdens are multiplying and the end of the world is looming just around the corner. And maybe they’re just tired. Whatever it is, alcohol is at least partly to blame because Dean’s pretty sure he’s not completely plastered. But Sammy probably is.
Probably. Dean can’t be certain because Sam is currently nibbling relentlessly at Dean’s neck and his face is hidden. But he’s bold like he’s never been before, taking the lead and barreling through every vocal barrier Dean tries to put in place. Though, to be fair, Dean’s walls crumble so easily. They’re down to the wire, reluctant soldiers being forced onto opposite sides of a war they don’t want to fight. Little green army men in the hands of spoiled children and Dean’s not sure either of them will make it out intact. So he’s taking what he can now. Wallowing in his lust like he hasn’t since right before he was dragged to hell. And even then he’d wallowed with safe partners. Women. Strangers. Sometimes, if he was particularly melancholy or needy, men. Tall men. With too long hair and huge… hands.
“Fuck, Dean. Take it off,” Sam whines, all desperate petulance and he sounds so much like he did as a kid that Dean’s gut twists sickly. Guilt suddenly an iron fist clamping down on his insides.
“Sam… Sammy. Stop. You’re drunk and I-“ But he doesn’t get to finish and his attempt to sit up in the bed and put some distance between them is curtailed by a very adult Sam slinging a long leg over Dean’s thighs. He hoists himself up, straddles Dean’s waist, and meets Dean’s eyes, determination shining in his piercing gaze. And Dean is struck speechless.
Sam is beautiful. Hair rumpled and sticking out at odd angles. His face flushed a deep red, spreading down to tinge his neck pink. His chest heaving slightly with every breath. His biceps flex and bulge as his hands reach out to explore Dean’s sides, rucking his t-shirt up without asking permission.
“’M not that drunk, Dean. Just don’t want to die without having this. So stop arguing already.”
And Dean doesn’t even want to try to stop this anymore. It’d be like trying to keep the sun from rising anyway. Never going to happen. Sammy is finally asking for what he wants, and Dean can’t say no. Would never deny Sam something in his power to give. Wouldn’t want to deny him this even if he could. Dean wants it too much for himself.
Dean’s hand trembles when he lifts it to cup the side of Sam’s warm face. Sam turns his face into the touch, eyes still searching Dean’s for any signs of plans to flee, and places a damp kiss in Dean’s palm. When Dean gasps at the touch, Sam does it again and adds in a hip roll, his ass sliding back just enough to nudge at the erection straining against the zipper of Dean’s jeans.
“God,” Dean mutters, his free hand flying up to grasp Sam’s hip, but he’s not sure if he originally intended to stop him or encourage him. Doesn’t matter either way. Sam keeps going, dirty little grinds of his ass against Dean’s dick, and Dean just hangs on for the ride.
“Gonna kiss you now, Dean. ‘Kay?”
Sam’s tried this before. Kissing. Just once. The night before he cut out for Stanford. And as much as Dean wanted to let it happen, his heart was hurting too much and he was already missing a brother who was still beside him. He’d stopped Sam then. Left them both so raw and wounded Dean thought they’d never heal. But here Sam is, leaning over him slowly, offering the only balm either of them need. And this time Dean’s going to take it.
“Yeah,” Dean breathes out, and then, “please.”
Sam’s mouth is amazing. Hot and tangy with desire. His tongue wastes no time, flicking out to meet Dean’s in a tequila tangle that’s just the right side of sloppy. They come together in this just like they do in everything else, meeting in the middle. Sam’s a little too eager, his inner teenager slipping out to finally have what he’s always wanted. And Dean slows him down, slides a hand into his hair and angles his head, all commanding big brother and Sammy just accepts it. Lets Dean have control like he rarely does in day to day life.
And then their frantic kiss melts into gentle licks and sucks and soft nibbles and soon enough, Sam’s hips start a new rhythm to match. What started out as a hard and fast bid to relieve tension is shifting into something else. Something slow and delicious. They’re all languid half thrusts and low, growling moans and Dean thinks it’s the hottest thing ever. Until Sam bites at his bottom lip just hard enough to sting and starts fumbling with the button on Dean’s jeans. Even hotter.
“Can’t wait,” Sam pants against Dean’s cheek when he pulls away to breathe, “Need…”
He trails off there, but that’s okay. Dean knows what they need. And, taking Sam by surprise, Dean finds leverage with his feet and flips them, fitting himself between Sam’s spread thighs before Sam can get his bearings. Not that it matters. Sam doesn’t even try to argue. He just makes room for Dean like he owns that space and uses his stupidly ridiculous strength to pull Dean’s mouth back to his.
And then Dean does something he’s wanted to do entirely too long. He undresses his baby brother. Slowly. Carefully. Worshipping every inch of skin as he goes. And Sammy is so pliant and accommodating, offering his body to Dean like he’s wanted to do most of his life. Sam skin is warm and tastes like the sweetest sin. And Dean devours him, leaves bruises in the shape of his mouth all over his little brother’s body.
Their clothes fall off the side of the bed with little thought and Dean is quick to press himself to the front of Sam’s body once there’s nothing but bare skin. Sam hisses when their cocks slide together for the first time but Dean can’t even breathe for how good it feels. Sam throbs and leaks alongside him and Dean can’t stop his hips from jerking forward.
Sam meets him thrust for thrust and this isn’t how he planned on things happening. Not at all. He’d wanted to go slower. Maybe actually get inside of Sam, or vice versa. But there’s no stopping this. They’ve waited too long, spent too many years ignoring this thing smoldering between them and now it’s been unleashed.
“Fuck, Dean,” Sam groans, head tipping back as his fingers find Dean’s hips and dig in. He’ll be bruised. But at least, like Sam, he’ll have physical proof they were here.
“Come on, baby,” Dean urges, head swimming now with the effects of alcohol and Sam pressed so hot and hard against him.
Dean’s dick pulses out a spurt of pre-come when Sam’s lips slide across his jaw, teeth scraping gently over stubbly skin. And he buries his toes into the cheap mattress and pushes even harder into Sam’s body, seeking that edge that will send them both spiraling into orgasm.
Just as Dean’s legs begin to ache and cramp in protest, Sam shudders under him, releasing a long, broken whimper and then he’s coming hard and fast. Dean holds out long enough to work him through it, but then he falls to the side, cock still thick and heavy between his legs. And he thinks maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s right that Sam came and he didn’t. Come morning, he’ll be able to remember that he took care of Sammy. He wasn’t selfish and he didn’t force anything on Sam. He doesn’t need to feel guilty.
But that train of thought is derailed and then effectively blown to smithereens when Dean feels first Sam’s hair tickling over his abdomen and then Sam’s hot mouth closing over the tip of his erection.
Dean chokes out a gravely, “Sammy,” and his hands sink into Sam’s hair with intentions of pulling him off. But it feels so good and Sam makes a delicious little whine like Dean’s the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted and Dean ends up wrapping that long hair around his fingers. He guides his baby brother’s mouth up and down over his cock and resigns himself to an eternity in hell.
“Just like that, baby. God yes.”
It’s all a blur after that. Dean knows he comes explosively down Sam’s throat. He knows Sam cleans them up, offers Dean a few languid kisses, and doesn’t leave the bed. But that’s it. After his body comes down from post coital bliss, he falls into sleep quickly and easily. Like he hasn’t in years.
***
The first thing Dean becomes aware of the next morning is the warm presence at his back. His first thought is Castiel. That doesn’t really make sense though because, even half asleep, he knows he and Cas haven’t quite gotten there yet.
In fact, he hasn’t even managed to get that first kiss. They’re kind of hovering on the outskirts of more than friends but neither of them can find the courage to take it farther. So not Castiel.
But with the realization that Cas isn’t occupying Dean’s bed comes the knowledge of who is currently breathing into Dean’s naked back. And that brings back a jumble of memories from the night before.
Dean remembers pouring over the case information with Sam. Death certificates, school records, police and autopsy reports. Anything that might tell them why body parts are showing up on people’s doorsteps and why the heart is always missing.
They’d been frustrated and drained. Running from Heaven and Hell, avoiding angels and demons alike, is taking it out of them. So they’d decided to close the files and have a few drinks. Or Dean had decided to do that and Sam had, finally, followed Dean to the bottle and then happily into the land of intoxication.
After that… well fuck. Dean really doesn’t need to relive that. He needs to forget that and hope Sam doesn’t even remember.
As if on cue, like he knows Dean’s thinking about him, Sam starts to stir. Dean doesn’t even wait for him to open his eyes. He bolts from the bed and locks himself in the bathroom before Sam can even utter his first complaint about a hangover. And, being the lightweight he is, he’ll no doubt have a pounding headache. Dean’s almost thankful he has a higher tolerance because aside from a queasy stomach, he seems to be fine. Well, as long as he doesn’t consider his mortification at finally having given in to his desire to fuck his little brother.
Except they didn’t make it that far, did they? No. They’d just…
Dean shakes his head hard to get rid of those wayward thoughts and turns the shower on. A little too cold. Perfect. He’s already naked, so he steps in, full body, and gasps at the cool water. Oh well. At least certain parts of him won’t get any smart ideas when his mind wanders. And he knows it will. Probably most of the day. Great.
It’s really not fair that he has to deal with the guilt from this shit and all they did was rub off against each other. If he’s got to carry this around with him, at least they could have actually fucked. But then he thinks about Cas. Poor, sweet Cas. And he’s kind of glad they didn’t. Cas deserves better out of him. Better than Dean cheating on him with his own brother nonetheless.
But he and Cas aren’t technically together, are they? Cas admitting he finds Dean attractive to the point of distraction doesn’t a relationship make. Neither does Dean being head over heels for the falling angel. So it’s not like he’s really cheated.
A knock at the bathroom door forces Dean’s heart into this throat and cuts off his thoughts.
“Y-yeah?” He yells, wincing at the stutter in his voice.
“Going for coffee and breakfast,” Sam yells back a little quieter than normal. But the important thing is, he’s not deviating from their usual morning activities. Maybe Sam doesn’t remember. Or maybe, like Dean, he’s suppressing.
“’Kay. Something greasy, Sammy.” And that nickname rolling off his tongue now feels filthy. And hot. And his whole body flushes despite the cold water.
“Okay. Um. Yeah.” Sam sounds like he’s been punched in the gut and Dean knows he’s not as lucky as he’d hoped. Sam didn’t forget. But maybe, just maybe, he’ll realize how important it is that they don’t talk about it. Ever.
***
“What? Are we just going to pretend like it never happened?”
Dean ought to have known he couldn’t possibly be afforded that much good fortune.
They’ve just sat down across from each other at the rickety, formica table when Sam blurts out the words Dean was desperately hoping not to hear. But, he handles it like a pro. Doesn’t even look up from the splotchy paper bag from which he’s pulling a breakfast burrito when he says, “Yep.”
And that’s that. Final answer. That’s all she wrote.
If only Sam understood that.
“Oh come on, Dean. We’re good, but we’re not that good.”
Dean just shrugs and unrolls the foil from one end of the warm tortilla. He bites into it, focusing on the sage he can taste in the sausage and the tangy bite of cheese mixed with salsa. It’s perfect until he gags on his first mouthful when Sam says, “I sucked your fucking cock, Dean. And I can still taste you. So don’t make me pretend like it didn’t happen.”
Dean feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his head when he looks up to meet Sam’s steadfast and determined gaze. But he finally swallows the food without dying and he’s opening his mouth to say… what he doesn’t know, when Cas flutters into the room. Finally. A bit of luck. Because Dean doesn’t have a clue how he might have responded.
“I find myself quite famished,” Cas announces, oblivious to the tension in the room.
Sam, still staring almost angrily into Dean’s eyes, drops the burrito he hasn’t even unwrapped onto the table.
“Might as well have mine, Cas. I’m not all that hungry anymore.”
With that, Sam scoots his chair back and calmly stands. He offers Cas a small smile and throws nothing Dean’s way but an ice cold shoulder as he turns toward the bathroom.
“I’ll be ready to head out in ten. Eat fast.”
Cas takes Sam’s seat and his food without another word, quickly stuffing almost half of it into his mouth before he leans back and closes his eyes to chew.
He’s beautiful. All soft wonderment and adorable confusion. Much like he was when he first walked into Dean’s life, unaccustomed to rubbing elbows with humans. And now he’s becoming one and it’s fascinating to watch. Plus, right now, it gives Dean’s mind something on which to focus so he isn’t turning the Sam conundrum over and over.
“Good?” Dean asks, lifting his cup to take a sip of lukewarm coffee.
“Hm?” Cas responds, eyes opening slowly as he swallows what amounts to most of Sam’s breakfast.
“The burrito. Is it good?”
Cas’ brow furrows and he thinks entirely too hard about his answer. But that’s how Cas does everything. With utmost concentration and devotion. Dean thinks he’d be an incredible lover.
“It is spicy. Very cheesy.” Cas takes another small bite, and then nods, “Yes. It is good.”
And this sets the tone for the rest of the day. Sam runs hot and cold, easily exchanging his icy glares for heated stares in the blink of an eye all while Cas follows them around, too tired to continue his search for his Father. But not at all too tired to plant himself right in the middle of Dean’s incestuous freak out.
Dean exposes Baby to bumpy dirt road after bumpy dirt road, eases down gravel driveways and winces as he hears the little pings against her undercarriage. And he ignores the looks Sam gives him. The ones that say ‘you’re such a prick’ right along with the ones that say ‘I’m dying to get my hands on you again.’ And, of course, there’s also the random ‘it’s just a fucking car, Dean.’ But those are by far the worst and Dean shoots his own ‘fuck you’ glance right back when he feels that look boring into the side of his head.
But for all the beating and banging on his most prized possession, they get nowhere. Their suits and ties earn them distrusting side-eyes and not much information. And by the time they’re rolling into the diner down the road from their motel, they know next to nothing. Which is only slightly more than they knew yesterday. Or two days ago when they first got here.
And the tension is still so thick it’s hard for Dean to breathe. And Cas still seems to be completely oblivious while Sam goes from one extreme (outright anger) to the other (hungry need) every few minutes.
Dean seriously considers skipping dinner altogether. But then he remembers just how delicious the burgers are in the little backwoods diner and decides the awkwardness is totally worth it. Besides, Cas keeps looking at him with that odd little tilt to his head and that strange glint in his eyes and Dean thinks maybe, just maybe, things are about to change for them.
Of course, it couldn’t happen at a worse time. What with Sam going all Dollanganger on him suddenly and Dean not quite minding. Except that he does mind because it’s wrong. Now if only he could actually convince himself to mind. Fuck.
When Dean puts the car in park, Cas is the first to open his door. And Sam is the first to speak.
“Why don’t you go on in, Cas? Dean wants a burger and I’ll have a Caesar Salad. One water and one coke. And then whatever you want.”
Cas glances between the diner and the two of them like he’s not sure if he can handle a task as big as ordering food on his own. But then his stomach grumbles impatiently and he makes his decision.
“Burger, Caesar Salad, water, and coke. And whatever I want?”
Sam nods encouragingly and Castiel, feeling bolstered by Sam’s faith in him, shuts the door and charges forward, a man on a mission.
And then it’s just Sam. And Dean. And the huge ass elephant that’s been riding along with them all day. Dean thinks about making a break for it but he’s sure Sam’s expecting it so he knows he won’t get too far. Best to just bite the bullet then.
“Okay. It happened. It’s not happening again. And that’s all there is to it.”
But even though Dean isn’t looking at Sam, he can feel that glare burning into him and he knows that’s not the end of it. Sammy’s stubborn like that. Too much like their dad really. That was one thing Sam always got wrong. He and their dad didn’t butt heads because they were too different. It was because they were too much alike.
“Why is it not happening again? Is it Cas? Are you guys…?”
“No!” Dean is quick to deny. And then, sheepishly, he adds, “Not yet. But maybe? I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter because even if Cas wasn’t in the picture, you and I would not be doing that again.”
Ten times the neon open sign flashes and illuminates the steering wheel Dean is staring at before Sam speaks again.
“Yes we would. Maybe not right now. But a few months down the road we’d find our way to the bottom of a bottle and then into bed. And that would keep happening until we finally just decided to forgo the alcohol. I think we were always going to end up there, Dean. And I made my peace with that a long time ago. I think I’ve always known it’s you. Normal isn’t in the cards for me and if that means I get you? I’m okay with it. More than.”
“Sammy-“ Dean starts, already searching for something he can say to discourage Sam. Anything to get them off this path because that way lies madness. But Sam’s hand finds its way to his thigh, squeezing gently just once before it’s gone. And that small touch sends Dean’s heart into overdrive and all his blood rushing south.
“It’s okay. We can take it slow. And if you want Cas? Go for it. I’m not going to stand in your way. But I’m not giving you up either so I hope he’s okay with sharing.”
And with that, Sam gets out of the car and Dean would swear there’s more pep in his step than there’s been all day. Dean has to sit for a minute and give his body time to relax while he attempts to put the last five minutes of his life in a vault at the back of his mind, one stamped heavily with ‘DO NOT OPEN’ and ‘FRAGILE.’ But his thigh is still tingling and he can still feel the ghost of Sam’s lips from last night.
When he looks up, he sees Sam and Cas sitting across from each other, forks in hand. Cas is saying something, that adorable mask of confusion plastered on his face and Sam’s grin is growing with each word and they’re both so fucking beautiful that Dean’s heart cracks a little at the sight. His baby brother and his angel. And he wants them both so much he aches with it.
As if Dean’s thoughts reach out to him, Cas turns and meets Dean’s eyes through the glass and there’s that exciting little tingle running through his body, the one Cas has been inciting for so very long now. And when Sam turns to motion him in, Dean just feels home and love and family and need and all of it is so mixed up and jumbled. Dean isn’t sure what Sam is to him anymore but he does know that losing him isn’t an option.
But he sees his burger sitting there getting cold and even if he doesn’t know how he’s going to fix his screwed up life, he does know he wants some beef. And the company of his two favorite people. So he finally opens his door and steps out of the car.
***
“The victims don’t seem to have anything in common,” Cas announces, as if Sam and Dean haven’t already figured that out. As if that hasn’t been the crux of the problem all along.
“Really, Cas? Hadn’t noticed,” Dean replies, slightly irritably. But hey. They’ve been at this for two days, no one is cooperating, and he’s still no closer to figuring out his little conundrum. Granted it’s only been a couple of hours, but still. Dean’s not used to working out anything except how to get dressed and out the door without waking last night’s bed partner. So this is all new for him.
“Drink your beer, Dean,” Sam says with long suffering patience and a soft fond sigh, “Let us go over this. Maybe all we need is a fresh pair of eyes.”
Relenting, because he shouldn’t be taking his frustration out on Castiel anyway, Dean leans back against the headboard and stares at the ceiling as Sam starts from the very beginning.
Dean listens as Sam lists each victim. Four of them are teenagers, all attending the same high school. And if it weren’t for the fifth victim, who seems to have no ties to the school whatsoever, that’s where they’d be investigating. But that one oddball is throwing the whole thing off.
“Maybe he doesn’t have anything to do with the case,” Dean throws out as Sam is going into detail about how Corbin Smith had recently turned forty and still lived in his mom’s basement. Honestly, it feels a lot like Norman Bates. “He’s the only thing throwing this off.”
Dean doesn’t look, but he can feel Sam’s eyes on him when he says, “It fits the pattern, Dean. Dismembered with body parts being left on doorsteps. Missing heart. There’s a connection to the others, we’re just missing it.”
Dean rolls his eyes and lifts himself off the bed to grab another beer, “Yeah well, I say the forty year old virgin isn’t one of ours. He just doesn’t fit.”
When Dean stands, unscrewing the top from his fresh beer, he meets Sam’s eyes and watches as his facial expression shifts from ‘you are such an idiot’ to ‘you are a fucking genius.’
“That’s it. I don’t know if we can really confirm it. But come on. The guy lived in his mom’s basement. He collected rocks and stamps and porcelain dolls. His mom said he never went anywhere but work. He really could have been a forty year old virgin. And I think…”
Sam trails off, sliding papers around until he jerks one up and waves it around in triumph.
“This! The school hosted some sort of sex ed event a couple months ago and all of our teen victims signed a pledge of abstinence.”
Dean snorts, “Yeah. I did that a time or two as well. Nobody sticks to that.”
He’s in the middle of a swig of beer when Sam shrugs, easy as you please, and replies, “I did for a long time. But I was holding out for someone special so it wasn’t difficult,” And then he goes right back to looking through notes like he didn’t just leave Dean struggling to swallow instead of choke.
Cas, who’s been silently listening, picks that moment to join the conversation, “And was it worth it? Holding out for this special person?”
“Yeah. But it took him years to come around and by the time he did I’d already… well, let’s just say he wasn’t my first like I’d wanted him to be. But everything else was absolutely perfect until he got up the next morning all freaked out on me.”
Castiel nods and seems genuinely upset by the news. “I am sorry he does not return your affections, Sam.”
“Oh he does. I just have to wait for him to realize and be willing to admit it. That could take a while.”
Sam doesn’t look at him even once while he’s speaking; he just starts stacking papers, steady and calm as ever. And that’s when it hits Dean that Sam really wants this. He’s apparently already dealt with any issue he might have had about sleeping with his brother and he’s just ready to commit to the insanity. And Dean’s trying to decide if he’s even capable of getting to that point when Cas speaks up again from where he’s seated at the table full of research.
“I was wondering if it would be too much of an imposition if I slept here tonight. I see there are only two beds but I can sleep on the floor.”
Dean nods instantly, and then asks, “How often are you doing that now? Sleeping.”
The unasked question is, ‘how fast are you falling?’
“Once every few days. But I’m traveling a lot so I’m tiring myself out faster.”
Fast. He’s falling so fast.
“You can stay here, Cas. And Dean will share his bed so you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Sam offers so easily. Nonchalant and without a hint of jealousy.
And a few months ago Dean would have protested, if only to save face. But he’s tired of running from this. He’s tired of being scared to touch Castiel. And maybe he’s exhausted from spending most of his life carefully cataloguing the ways he’s allowed to touch Sammy.
So after a quick glance at Sam, his face hidden behind a curtain of hair but his body relaxed and unconcerned, Dean says, “Yeah, Cas. You can sleep with me. Bed’s plenty big enough.”
Dean sees Cas eye the bed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation and he can’t help but reach out to gently squeeze Cas’ shoulder when he passes by to throw his empty bottle in the trash. Just some mild reassurance. After all, Sam is going to be in the bed next to them. It’s not like they’re going to get up to anything but a little light snuggling if even that.
***
“Shit Cas,” Dean whispers, eyes darting over to make sure Sam’s still lying motionless.
Cas wiggles under him, hands sliding under Dean’s shirt again, fingernails scratching lightly. And then warm lips press into his neck and Dean’s eyes fall closed.
“Why haven’t we ever done this before?” Cas asks, all eager innocence and Dean shivers at the warm breath tickling over his skin.
And God help him, Dean doesn’t know. They should have. They should have been doing this for years. Because much like Sam folds over him perfectly, Cas fits under him just right.
Cas arches up and Dean gasps, feels how hard Cas is inside the pajamas Dean gave him to wear and then the mental image of Cas’ cock leaking into the material of those pajamas, Dean’s, makes his dick jerk hard. And to silence the whimper that bubbles up out of his throat, he leans in and captures Cas’ plush lips.
And it’s so different from kissing Sam. He can tell Cas has never done this and a thrill shoots through him. He didn’t get to be Sam’s first but he gets that honor with Cas. So he takes it slow, offers Cas his mouth with only flashes of tongue here and there. And Cas takes it so sweetly, tilting his head to the side and letting Dean own his lips.
By the time they’re both breathless enough to pull away, Dean’s fingers have found their way into Cas’ hair and Cas’ hips are shifting up over and over again, seeking friction against Dean’s crotch. And Dean lets him have it, just bears down to give Cas a solid surface and watches as the intense joy and pleasure washes over his face.
“This is…” Cas says, low and gravelly, but he trails off when a shudder takes him and his pace picks up.
Dean lets his eyes roam over Cas’ flushed face and his parted lips. Enjoys the small moans and sighs emanating from the body under him. And finally finishes for him, “amazing,” just as orgasm seizes Cas’ body and he jerks and then stills as he spills into the pajamas he’s wearing. Dean’s pajamas, he remembers again. And without warning, Dean’s cock gives a pulse or two and he’s coming.
And it’s so shocking because all he’s been able to think about is making it good for Cas and his own arousal has gone unnoticed. But now he’s wrapped in the firm embrace of a soul shattering release and the only thing that keeps him grounded are those crystal blue eyes staring up at him in awe.
“Beautiful,” Cas says and Dean can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he turns his head and lowers his body to rest on top of the slightly shaky one under him. The side of his face lands on the cool pillow and his eyes meet those of his brother. Wide open and staring at him. At them.
And the look on his face says he’d like nothing more than to help Cas make a Dean sandwich. Dean gets up then, levering himself off Cas’ body to go find something to clean them up. And he resolutely doesn’t think about the fact that Sam watched them. Or just how much he’d like to have Sam on top of him while Cas is under him.
***
“Okay,” Sam says excitedly as he climbs back in the car after interviewing Mrs. Smith for the second time, “so obviously she wouldn’t know if he was a virgin for sure. But she says he’s never had a girlfriend or boyfriend that she knew of. Though she did once find a collection of porn mags under his mattress.”
“Oh, he was a virgin for sure,” Dean replies.
So now they have their connection. And this weirdness sitting between them in the front seat. And Cas sitting in the back grinning widely up at Dean in the rearview mirror.
Dean is more confused than he was when Rhonda talked him into her panties and he loved it.
“Okay, so what now?” Dean asks because knowing the connection doesn’t really give them the perpetrator.
“So now we figure out what would want virgin hearts and why.”
Except it’s not that easy. They spend another night sorting through stacks of books and papers and scouring the web and by midnight they have two different possibilities but still no concrete evidence pointing to one person in particular.
It could either be someone dipping into dark magic for any number of spells that require a pure heart. Or it could be a god or goddess requiring a sacrifice because they’ve dealt with that before. But at least they’re getting closer to solving the case even if Dean isn’t any closer to figuring his life out.
Cas is yawning again though which is worrisome to Dean because the only travelling he’s done today has been by car or on foot. He shouldn’t be wearing down this fast.
“Staying again tonight, Cas?” Sam asks and he at least has the decency to blush a little.
“If you don’t mind. Though I think perhaps you should sleep with Dean tonight.”
Sam cuts his eyes over at Dean who feels his own face go blood red even though Castiel’s suggestion is completely innocent.
“I don’t want you to feel threatened by my relationship with Dean, Sam. I don’t intend to take him away from you. So I think it would be best if we… take turns.”
Or maybe not so innocent after all.
“Cas, we aren’t… we’re not… I mean…” Dean stutters, trying to find something to say that won’t give them away but also isn’t a lie because he can’t lie to Cas.
But Sam cuts in before Dean can figure it out, “What Dean means is that it’s only been the one time and he’s sort of determined not to let it happen again. So he’s not going to get in bed with me.”
Sam gets up then and heads to the bathroom leaving Dean alone with Cas and the huge admission Sam just threw out there. Great. The bathroom door closes and a few seconds later the shower turns on. And all the while, Cas is staring at Dean with a mixture of sadness and confusion playing over his face.
“I don’t understand. I thought you and Sam were lovers.” And he’s looking to Dean for some sort of explanation. Like the fact that Sam is his baby brother isn’t reason enough not to be fucking him on a regular basis.
“You thought Sam and I were lovers and you were just okay with it? Newsflash, Cas, Sam is my little brother. Not only are we both guys but there’s the incest factor to consider here.”
Cas tilts his head to the side and for a moment it’s obvious he’s lost in thought but then he shakes his head and motions for Dean to sit on the foot of the bed closest to him.
“Our Father created intercourse for two reasons, Dean. Procreation and intimacy. It is not a sin for two people who cannot conceive to engage in intercourse because it is also intended as a way for humans to show love and affection. You and Sam love each other, correct?”
Dean doesn’t even hesitate to answer in the affirmative. There’s never been another person in his life whom he loves more though, anymore, Cas comes damned close.
“You are both consenting?”
Here Dean pauses and thinks about all the alcohol that had been involved. And he almost says no. But then he thinks about all the close calls before and how sometimes there’d been nothing but adrenaline flowing between them. So yeah. They’d both wanted it. He nods again and Cas smiles.
“Then I see nothing wrong with the two of you sharing an intimate relationship. You are not misusing the gifts our Father has bestowed upon you. And you are not harming anyone.”
“Yeah well, what about the sex outside of marriage thing?” And Dean knows he’s just scrambling for something now. Anything that can keep him from having to deal with the fact that he’s wanted his baby brother since forever.
“Our Father doesn’t concern himself with any government’s definition of marriage. A marriage of souls is all that is required. And there is no question about the connection you have with your brother, Dean. Nor is there any question about the bond you and I share.”
Sam picks that moment to emerge from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips and tiny droplets of water still clinging to his slightly pink skin. And Dean’s throat goes dry and his body heats up. And when Sam glances at him before grabbing his duffle Dean knows Sam was aiming for that reaction.
“Maybe,” Dean starts and has to clear his throat to continue, “Maybe you and Sam should share tonight. I need to… think.”
Cas nods just as Sam says, “I’m fine with sharing with Cas. The bed. You. Whatever.”
And now it’s all out in the open and Dean feels more conflicted than ever. They both say they’re okay with sharing, but Dean still feels like he needs to pick. And a huge part of him feels like he’s not allowed to choose either of them. Sam is his brother, Cas is his angel, and he can’t soil either of them.
***
When Dean wakes up the next morning after a fitful night’s sleep, the first thing he sees is Cas’ face across the gap between his bed and Sam’s. His expression is soft in sleep and it takes a minute for Dean to realize that Sam is curled up behind him. And they’re cuddling.
But Sam isn’t asleep. No. He’s watching Dean over the top of Cas’ head. And Dean is mesmerized by the sight. Because they look like they belong like that, wrapped around each other in a sleepy embrace. And it kind of feels like he should be right there with them.
Sam holds Dean’s gaze as he tilts his face down and places a barely there kiss on the top of Cas’ head. And then his hand starts moving up and down Cas’ arm.
“Cas? Come on. Gotta wake up.” The words are right, but his tone is off. Sweet. Tender. Fucking hot and Dean finds himself growing hard in his underwear just watching and listening.
“Mmm,” is Cas’ sleepy reply, but he burrows deeper under the covers, closer to Sam and Sam’s smile grows.
“Dean’s watching us. And I think he likes what he sees.”
Castiel’s eyes slowly open at that and the corner of his mouth tugs upward when he sees Dean staring at them.
“I believe you are correct, Sam.”
There’s a hint of mischievousness in both sets of the eyes staring back at him so Dean tosses his covers back and levers himself out of bed. Maybe he can get them moving without having to endure any seduction shenanigans because he knows Sam wouldn’t be above using Cas to tempt him. As if Sam isn’t tempting enough himself. But the two of them together… Yeah. Dean’s going to lose this battle and he can’t even really care all that much.
“Yeah yeah. Now get up. I want to find this bastard today and get out of here by tonight.”
Fortunately neither of them argues with him and within the hour they’re in the car again. They get the same cold shoulder from every person they visit that they’ve been getting all along. But that’s okay because now they’re fairly certain they know what’s going on.
According to Castiel, they most likely have another pissed off god on their hands. The sun god Huitzilopochtli is Cas’ best guess as he requires a beating heart be sacrificed and allows for cannibalism or gifting of other body parts to important members of society. And, so far, it seems to be doctors, lawyers, and local politicians who’ve been surprised with random body parts.
“I am confused though. Huitzilopochtli does not require virginal sacrifices.” Cas says from the backseat as they drive down yet another driveway where they’ve been turned away. This is a close knit community though, and as much as they want the case solved, they really don’t want an outsider to be the one to do it.
“Everything else fits though, right Cas?” Sam asks, shuffling through a few papers to find whoever he thinks they should talk to next.
“Yes. Everything else fits perfectly.”
“Okay. But who then? Are we looking for an actual god throwing a tantrum? Or a person trying to appease a god?”
Castiel actually shrugs and Dean thinks he’s probably spent too much time with them since Sam gives him the same answer. But Dean’s determined to take care of this shit today one way or the other. He doesn’t, however, mean to endanger Castiel in the process. But sometimes shit happens.
***
He’s out here somewhere. Dean knows it. But it’s starting to get dark and one row of corn looks exactly like the next. Which is probably exactly why the bastard picked a cornfield in which to hold his rituals.
“I’ll see if I can locate him,” Cas says just before he disappears and Dean doesn’t even get a chance to tell him to be careful. He’s still a virgin after all. But he’s also still an angel so Dean thinks he’ll probably be fine.
He and Sam keep travelling toward the center of the field. Or what Dean hopes is the center anyway. He can’t be certain. But then Dean hears soft chanting carrying on the breeze from his right and he grabs at Sam and turns them toward it.
Turns out they have both a god throwing a tantrum and an idiot trying to appease him on their hands. And while they’ve convinced the idiot - the town mortician nonetheless (as if being a mortician wasn’t creepy enough on its own, the guy had to throw human sacrifice in the mix) - to turn himself in to local authorities, they still have to take care of the god. Who, thankfully, hasn’t been warned of their impending arrival.
So they walk carefully toward the melodic chanting and Dean isn’t surprised when they start to pick up the scent of burning incense. Cas still isn’t back by the time they’re approaching a lit opening in the field but Dean can’t put too much thought into that because he can see the back of a person kneeling at the altar in the middle of the cut out circle which, from above, probably looks a bit like a crop circle.
The chanting is louder now, the incense so strong it’s making him dizzy, and it takes him several seconds to realize there’s someone spread out on that altar. A male someone.
About the time Sam gasps, Dean notices the long heavy wings falling over either side. Black. Almost so opaque as to be invisible. But there nonetheless. And the world around him is trying to blink out of existence when it finally registers that it’s Castiel being offered as a sacrifice. The purest of hearts.
Everything goes topsy turvy, a mixture of fear and the heat and the smell trying to bring him down, but then Sam’s there, gripping him by the elbow and dragging him forward.
“Gotta save Cas, Dean. The knife.”
Then everything snaps back into focus. Dean has it. The knife he’s to use to slay the sun god. The warrior sun god. And until this very moment, seeing Castiel shirtless and in his full glory, Dean wondered how he’d be able to do it. But now, to protect his own, it seems like such a simple task.
The fucker is so caught up in his own chanting that he doesn’t even realize they’re approaching until it’s too late. He gets in one good swing with the blade in his hand, catches the underside of Dean’s arm before Dean drives the knife he’s holding into the god’s throat, slicing cleanly through the artery there.
And, as of now, he’s only human. Hasn’t yet been returned to his godlike state. He goes down so easily. And then Dean follows him. Adrenaline gone almost as quickly as it came. And the blood loss from his wound probably doesn’t help much.
The last thing he sees before darkness takes him is Castiel. All those black feathers flickering in and out of reality.
***
“I’ve done this before, Cas,” is the next thing Dean hears.
“Yes, but, I could heal him and the bleeding would stop immediately.”
“But at what cost? You’d probably be out for days.”
“It would be worth it. It’s too much blood, Sam.”
“He’s fine. I promise. It looks worse than it is.”
And though Sam is trying to keep Castiel calm, Dean can tell he’s worried too. His voice has that slight edge of hysteria to it.
“Yeah,” Dean croaks, alerting them both to the fact that he’s conscious, “it’s fine, Cas. Just a scratch.”
Dean expects Cas to argue with him. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, Cas leans over him and warms Dean’s cool, clammy forehead with his lips. One, two, three kisses before he just leans there, mouth pressed into Dean’s skin.
And that’s where Cas stays while Sam patches him up. Dean doesn’t complain at all. He’s too busy enjoying the attention and wondering how the hell Sam and Cas managed to get him all the way to the motel without him waking up.
“Huitzilopochtli was trying to regain power over the sun,” Sam starts to explain as he’s wrapping the last bits of tape around the bandage on Dean’s arm, “It had been so long since anyone had offered him a sacrifice that his power was waning and he’d been reduced to human. The guy from town was just a minion, bringing him virginal sacrifices because he thought they’d be more powerful. I guess when he saw Castiel… well, he’s a pure Angel and it doesn’t get much better than that, does it?”
“Your wings,” Dean starts, wincing when Sam pulls the tape a little too tightly, “hey, watch it.”
“There was a spell,” Castiel says before Sam can grumble too much about Dean’s whining, “the circle drew me in and kept me in my true form when it bound me to the altar.”
“But they were fading in and out,” Dean says.
“Because my grace is fading. You were aware of this, Dean. I am falling.” And Cas doesn’t even sound upset or bothered by it.
“They were so…” And suddenly he realizes there’s no word suitable. Nothing to describe the magnificence of Castiel’s wings. “Beautiful,” is what he settles on.
“They are,” Castiel agrees, “but it is a small price to pay.”
For what Castiel doesn’t say, but his lips find contact with Dean’s skin again and Dean thinks he doesn’t have to say anything at all.
And that, just knowing what Castiel is giving up for this, for him, is enough.
“Okay,” Dean says, turning to catch Sammy’s eye where he’s still sitting by the bed after patching up Dean’s arm. And that’s all he says, but from the way Sam smiles at him, he’s pretty sure Sam knows just what he means.
***
Dean’s arm is pretty much healed by the next afternoon and from the way Sam keeps shooting Cas the stink eye and just how tired Cas is, Dean knows exactly why. As if there was really any question anyway. And as thankful as Dean is, because now they can get out of this Podunk town, he does wish Cas would be better about reserving his energy.
But when Dean says as much Cas just shrugs and goes back to packing their clothes. He’s staying with them for a while so he can recover enough to continue his search. Dean isn’t complaining about that because not only does he like knowing Cas is safe, he hasn’t yet had a chance to seal the deal so to speak. But now, thanks to Cas, he’s healed up enough for certain activities and he knows just the spot.
Not the motel room. This shitty little room doesn’t deserve this memory. Or maybe this memory is going deserve a better setting. Whatever. There’s a little cliff on the way out of town, overgrown and rarely used. But Dean intends to make use of it today.
When Dean pulls one of the bedspreads off and starts folding it up Sam looks at him questioningly for a few seconds before realization sets in and he grins. Dean figures the motel will charge for the missing blanket, but Jerry Elamon won’t mind too much since he doesn’t actually exist. He tosses it into the trunk just before he slams it shut with all their worldly possessions inside. And then they’re off.
***
Dean pulls into the little clearing just before sunset. Sam already knows why they’re here, but Castiel doesn’t even ask. He just climbs out alongside them and, probably just to prove he still can, blinks out and then back in, moving from beside the car to the roof. And Dean can’t even bitch about it. Only Cas though. Sam better not go getting any ideas about climbing his gigantic ass up there.
But he doesn’t. Instead he leans up against baby’s fender while Dean takes up his customary spot propped on her grill. And then there’s nothing but silence as they watch the sun slowly melt over the horizon, the tall grass surrounding them swaying in the gentle summer breeze.
The first crickets have already begun their chirping and the fireflies are flitting around when Sam breaks the silence, “It’s okay, you know,” he says as if he’s just continuing a conversation and not starting one. He stops there and Dean sighs. He should have known they’d have to talk first.
“What’s okay?”
“That you love us both. That you want us both. I’m okay with it.”
Cas pipes in then from his spot above them, “As am I.”
Dean cranes his neck to look from Sam to Cas and then he nods. Truth be told, Dean is okay with it as well. More than okay. And he thinks it might be time to pull out that blanket now.
***
It doesn’t really go how Dean expects. For some reason he had it in his head that Sam and Cas only wanted him and not each other. So when, after they’ve spread the blanket out on the cool grass and gotten situated under the blackening sky, Sam pulls Cas into a soft, sweet kiss, Dean is both instantly aroused and a little bit in awe.
The kiss seems to go on forever and it’s happening right in front of Dean’s face because they’re on opposite sides of him and leaning across his chest to meet only inches from his eyes. And the whole time, Dean can’t do anything but watch as Sam nibbles and sucks at Cas’ mouth, tongue teasing at the seam of his lips, teeth flashing here and there as he catches Cas’ bottom lip. And when Dean moans, deep and throaty, against his will, Sam pulls back with a small grin and Castiel almost topples over trying to chase his mouth.
“Easy, Cas. Dean wants to kiss you now.”
And just like Sam’s word is a command Cas can’t resist, he turns toward Dean. And Dean doesn’t waste any time searching for his brother’s flavor on his angel’s lips. And then vice versa. Kiss after kiss until Dean can hardly breathe with how much he wants this and suddenly all his reasons for not doing this sooner seem ridiculous.
When Dean starts working the buttons of Cas’ shirt open, he wriggles out of his trench coat and slings a leg over Dean’s lap. Cas lifts up and then plants himself on Dean’s thighs while Sam slots in behind him, reaching down to open the fly on Cas’ jeans.
While Sam is busy down there, Dean starts his quest to taste every inch of Cas’ skin and fuck is Cas receptive. The angel seems intent on making sure Dean achieves his goals because he offers up every patch of flesh Dean seeks and soon enough Dean has him naked from the waist up and spread out on his back on the blanket, his head resting in Sam’s lap.
Castiel’s stomach quivers noticeably when Dean plants several open mouthed kisses there and Dean looks up to catch Sam’s eye, ‘help him relax,’ Dean says without a word passing between them. And, like always, Sam hears him. Dean has just enough time to see Sam’s fingers sinking into Cas’ hair before he turns his attention down to the cock trying to push through the opening in Cas’ trousers.
Dean’s hands are trembling when he reaches out to run the tips of his fingers over the material stretching over the hard flesh. But when Cas gasps and surges up toward his hand, Dean feels emboldened and palms Cas completely.
“Dean…” Cas moans and is effectively cut off by Sam’s pointer finger disappearing into his mouth.
“Suck him, Dean. Wanna see you do it. Those lips… He’s gonna come so fast for you.”
It takes Dean all of three seconds to have Cas’ dick out of his underwear and against his lips. And just so he can see Sam’s reaction, Dean holds eye contact while he rubs Cas’ leaking cockhead over his bottom lip, leaving behind glossy smears of precome.
“Shit, Dean,” Sam sighs, and Dean smiles briefly before sliding Cas’ cock between his lips.
It’s been years since he’s done this but it’s like riding a bike and Cas is freely whimpering for him in minutes. Dean gets lost in the sensations, the taste of Cas sitting heavily on his tongue, the feel of the spongey head hitting the roof of his mouth and then his throat, the smell of Cas, the sounds he’s making… it all comes together and makes Dean harder than he’s ever been in his life and by the time Cas is fighting to breathe and coming down his throat, Dean is rutting like an animal against the ground.
Once he’s swallowed the last drop, Dean pulls off and glances up at Sam. Sam, who is currently staring at Dean with so much hunger it’s almost scary.
“Lube?” is all Sam says before he gently lowers Cas’ head to the blanket and stands to start toward the car.
“Side pocket of my duffle,” Dean offers, voice raspy and shaky and even though he’s so horny he hurts and he’s still recovering from the blow job he just gave, he starts trying to get his clothes off. Because Sam’s going to fuck him and he needs to be naked for that.
Sam’s going to fuck him.
His baby brother is going to fuck him.
And that thought sends a thrill shooting up his spine and he shudders. They’ve been waiting for this for so long. And they deserve it. They do. They both want it.
There’s no reason they can’t.
Sam comes back with the lube but no condom and Dean doesn’t say a word. Instead he starts shimmying out of his clothes and then pulls at Sam’s. The very second Sam’s chest is exposed, Dean finds a nipple and latches on, teeth scraping tenderly over the small nub.
“Here, Cas. You can help with this.”
Dean doesn’t even know to what Sam is referring because he’s making his way back and forth between Sam’s nipples, leaving tiny teeth marks along the way. But then there are hands tugging at the last article of clothing he’s wearing - his underwear - and they’re too small to be Sam’s. And then it hits him what is getting ready to happen. Cas is going to open him up for Sam. Dean whines and bites down a little too hard.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, Dean. Just let Cas get you ready for me. Gonna feel so good.”
Dean kind of loses it after that. He knows Cas preps him, those wide fingers slipping in and out, bending just so, because Cas might be a virgin, but he knows Dean’s body inside and out. He knows he spends an inordinate amount of time nibbling at Sam’s chest. And he knows that he somehow fumbles Sam’s jeans open. But his next crystal clear memory is him on his hands and knees over Cas as Sam presses relentlessly into him. One long, slow slide that burns so good.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groans, hearing the pleading in his own voice. But God. He’s waited so long for this. And he just wants it. All. Now. Hard and deep.
“Open your eyes, Dean,” and that’s Cas’ voice coming from under him.
When Dean does finally pry his eyes open, Cas is there, looking up at him, his pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight. His blue eyes are deeper than ever, reflecting the heavens above them, little stars twinkling in and out, as if Cas contains them all within his body.
“God, Cas, you’re beautiful.”
Dean means to say more, but Sam bottoms out then, hip bones cutting into Dean’s ass cheeks and fingers digging into his waist. Dean shivers, full bodied, and wiggles his ass because words are beyond him now. But that’s okay, because Castiel has it covered.
“I believe he wants more, Sam. He is quite… euphoric at the moment.”
Euphoric. Yes. That’s the word. Like it’s Christmas and his birthday and he won the lottery all at once. And he really does want more. Wants Sam to move. Fuck him hard and dirty so he feels it for days.
But, instead, Sam pulls out excruciatingly slowly, fingernails biting Dean’s skin as he fights to restrain himself. And Dean knows why. Sam’s taking this slowly because they can do filthy later. And Dean’s sure they’ll get there. But this doesn’t have to be hurried. They’ve got nowhere to be - impending apocalypse notwithstanding - and no one is going to run away this time. So when Sam slides forward again, just as painfully slowly, Dean just moans and goes with it.
Cas lets Dean taste his lips while Sam gives it to Dean sweetly, dropping hot, wet kisses up and down his spine while his hands explore skin he’s never touched like this. He’s yearned for it though, just as Dean has. And Dean lets him take his time, lets Sammy touch him wherever and however he wants.
It seems to go on forever, Sam dipping in and out of his body. Cas’ slow, lazy kisses. And all the while, Dean’s cock sways heavy and hard between his legs, balls aching and throbbing. The need to come is urgent and pressing but the wait is a delicious sort of torture so Dean tries to hold out.
And manages right up to the point where Cas reaches down and takes him in hand.
“Fuck, Cas. Please.”
The knowing Dean’s body inside and out thing comes in handy again when Cas starts stroking him. He is able to match the pace Sam is setting and it takes only a few minutes before Dean is shaking with how bad he wants to let go. He almost begs. Would beg happily. Except he comes before he can, spilling over Cas’ hand and Sam just fucks him through it.
Keeps fucking him until he suddenly gasps and stills and Dean groans as Sam pulses over and over again, coming deep in Dean’s body while Cas lies under him, smiling up at the two of them softly like he’s just witnessed something beautiful and amazing rather than sinful. And that helps Dean feel a little better about the whole situation.
***
The once warm breeze is starting to chill their sweaty skin and Dean knows they should pack up and move on. But he has his angel on one side and his brother on the other and he feels relaxed like he hasn’t in such a long time. It’s deceptive, he knows. The calm before the storm. But he’s going to revel in it as along as he can.
Author: sincestiel
Fandom/Genre: SPN, Romance
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean, Dean/Castiel, slight Sam/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,320
Warnings: incest, language
Summary: They both say they’re okay with sharing, but Dean still feels like he needs to pick. And a huge part of him feels like he’s not allowed to choose either of them. Sam is his brother, Cas is his angel, and he can’t soil either of them.
This was never supposed to happen and Dean’s not even sure why it is. Despite a few close calls, he and Sam have never crossed the line between brothers and something more. It’s always been there, of course. An itch just under his skin, something deep and dark and sickeningly wrong growing inside of him. Aching and nauseating but woven through the very fabric of his being. As much a part of him as his green eyes or his freckles. Always just there.
And it’s the same for Sam. Dean’s always known Sam would be agreeable. Always known that what he wants is there for the taking. Sam’s always made that very clear even without saying it. But Dean’s the big brother and it’s his responsibility to keep them on the straight and narrow. So why is he leading Sammy astray now? After all these years and every time they’ve denied themselves?
They’re folding. The weight of an impending heavenly battle is too heavy. Their burdens are multiplying and the end of the world is looming just around the corner. And maybe they’re just tired. Whatever it is, alcohol is at least partly to blame because Dean’s pretty sure he’s not completely plastered. But Sammy probably is.
Probably. Dean can’t be certain because Sam is currently nibbling relentlessly at Dean’s neck and his face is hidden. But he’s bold like he’s never been before, taking the lead and barreling through every vocal barrier Dean tries to put in place. Though, to be fair, Dean’s walls crumble so easily. They’re down to the wire, reluctant soldiers being forced onto opposite sides of a war they don’t want to fight. Little green army men in the hands of spoiled children and Dean’s not sure either of them will make it out intact. So he’s taking what he can now. Wallowing in his lust like he hasn’t since right before he was dragged to hell. And even then he’d wallowed with safe partners. Women. Strangers. Sometimes, if he was particularly melancholy or needy, men. Tall men. With too long hair and huge… hands.
“Fuck, Dean. Take it off,” Sam whines, all desperate petulance and he sounds so much like he did as a kid that Dean’s gut twists sickly. Guilt suddenly an iron fist clamping down on his insides.
“Sam… Sammy. Stop. You’re drunk and I-“ But he doesn’t get to finish and his attempt to sit up in the bed and put some distance between them is curtailed by a very adult Sam slinging a long leg over Dean’s thighs. He hoists himself up, straddles Dean’s waist, and meets Dean’s eyes, determination shining in his piercing gaze. And Dean is struck speechless.
Sam is beautiful. Hair rumpled and sticking out at odd angles. His face flushed a deep red, spreading down to tinge his neck pink. His chest heaving slightly with every breath. His biceps flex and bulge as his hands reach out to explore Dean’s sides, rucking his t-shirt up without asking permission.
“’M not that drunk, Dean. Just don’t want to die without having this. So stop arguing already.”
And Dean doesn’t even want to try to stop this anymore. It’d be like trying to keep the sun from rising anyway. Never going to happen. Sammy is finally asking for what he wants, and Dean can’t say no. Would never deny Sam something in his power to give. Wouldn’t want to deny him this even if he could. Dean wants it too much for himself.
Dean’s hand trembles when he lifts it to cup the side of Sam’s warm face. Sam turns his face into the touch, eyes still searching Dean’s for any signs of plans to flee, and places a damp kiss in Dean’s palm. When Dean gasps at the touch, Sam does it again and adds in a hip roll, his ass sliding back just enough to nudge at the erection straining against the zipper of Dean’s jeans.
“God,” Dean mutters, his free hand flying up to grasp Sam’s hip, but he’s not sure if he originally intended to stop him or encourage him. Doesn’t matter either way. Sam keeps going, dirty little grinds of his ass against Dean’s dick, and Dean just hangs on for the ride.
“Gonna kiss you now, Dean. ‘Kay?”
Sam’s tried this before. Kissing. Just once. The night before he cut out for Stanford. And as much as Dean wanted to let it happen, his heart was hurting too much and he was already missing a brother who was still beside him. He’d stopped Sam then. Left them both so raw and wounded Dean thought they’d never heal. But here Sam is, leaning over him slowly, offering the only balm either of them need. And this time Dean’s going to take it.
“Yeah,” Dean breathes out, and then, “please.”
Sam’s mouth is amazing. Hot and tangy with desire. His tongue wastes no time, flicking out to meet Dean’s in a tequila tangle that’s just the right side of sloppy. They come together in this just like they do in everything else, meeting in the middle. Sam’s a little too eager, his inner teenager slipping out to finally have what he’s always wanted. And Dean slows him down, slides a hand into his hair and angles his head, all commanding big brother and Sammy just accepts it. Lets Dean have control like he rarely does in day to day life.
And then their frantic kiss melts into gentle licks and sucks and soft nibbles and soon enough, Sam’s hips start a new rhythm to match. What started out as a hard and fast bid to relieve tension is shifting into something else. Something slow and delicious. They’re all languid half thrusts and low, growling moans and Dean thinks it’s the hottest thing ever. Until Sam bites at his bottom lip just hard enough to sting and starts fumbling with the button on Dean’s jeans. Even hotter.
“Can’t wait,” Sam pants against Dean’s cheek when he pulls away to breathe, “Need…”
He trails off there, but that’s okay. Dean knows what they need. And, taking Sam by surprise, Dean finds leverage with his feet and flips them, fitting himself between Sam’s spread thighs before Sam can get his bearings. Not that it matters. Sam doesn’t even try to argue. He just makes room for Dean like he owns that space and uses his stupidly ridiculous strength to pull Dean’s mouth back to his.
And then Dean does something he’s wanted to do entirely too long. He undresses his baby brother. Slowly. Carefully. Worshipping every inch of skin as he goes. And Sammy is so pliant and accommodating, offering his body to Dean like he’s wanted to do most of his life. Sam skin is warm and tastes like the sweetest sin. And Dean devours him, leaves bruises in the shape of his mouth all over his little brother’s body.
Their clothes fall off the side of the bed with little thought and Dean is quick to press himself to the front of Sam’s body once there’s nothing but bare skin. Sam hisses when their cocks slide together for the first time but Dean can’t even breathe for how good it feels. Sam throbs and leaks alongside him and Dean can’t stop his hips from jerking forward.
Sam meets him thrust for thrust and this isn’t how he planned on things happening. Not at all. He’d wanted to go slower. Maybe actually get inside of Sam, or vice versa. But there’s no stopping this. They’ve waited too long, spent too many years ignoring this thing smoldering between them and now it’s been unleashed.
“Fuck, Dean,” Sam groans, head tipping back as his fingers find Dean’s hips and dig in. He’ll be bruised. But at least, like Sam, he’ll have physical proof they were here.
“Come on, baby,” Dean urges, head swimming now with the effects of alcohol and Sam pressed so hot and hard against him.
Dean’s dick pulses out a spurt of pre-come when Sam’s lips slide across his jaw, teeth scraping gently over stubbly skin. And he buries his toes into the cheap mattress and pushes even harder into Sam’s body, seeking that edge that will send them both spiraling into orgasm.
Just as Dean’s legs begin to ache and cramp in protest, Sam shudders under him, releasing a long, broken whimper and then he’s coming hard and fast. Dean holds out long enough to work him through it, but then he falls to the side, cock still thick and heavy between his legs. And he thinks maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s right that Sam came and he didn’t. Come morning, he’ll be able to remember that he took care of Sammy. He wasn’t selfish and he didn’t force anything on Sam. He doesn’t need to feel guilty.
But that train of thought is derailed and then effectively blown to smithereens when Dean feels first Sam’s hair tickling over his abdomen and then Sam’s hot mouth closing over the tip of his erection.
Dean chokes out a gravely, “Sammy,” and his hands sink into Sam’s hair with intentions of pulling him off. But it feels so good and Sam makes a delicious little whine like Dean’s the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted and Dean ends up wrapping that long hair around his fingers. He guides his baby brother’s mouth up and down over his cock and resigns himself to an eternity in hell.
“Just like that, baby. God yes.”
It’s all a blur after that. Dean knows he comes explosively down Sam’s throat. He knows Sam cleans them up, offers Dean a few languid kisses, and doesn’t leave the bed. But that’s it. After his body comes down from post coital bliss, he falls into sleep quickly and easily. Like he hasn’t in years.
***
The first thing Dean becomes aware of the next morning is the warm presence at his back. His first thought is Castiel. That doesn’t really make sense though because, even half asleep, he knows he and Cas haven’t quite gotten there yet.
In fact, he hasn’t even managed to get that first kiss. They’re kind of hovering on the outskirts of more than friends but neither of them can find the courage to take it farther. So not Castiel.
But with the realization that Cas isn’t occupying Dean’s bed comes the knowledge of who is currently breathing into Dean’s naked back. And that brings back a jumble of memories from the night before.
Dean remembers pouring over the case information with Sam. Death certificates, school records, police and autopsy reports. Anything that might tell them why body parts are showing up on people’s doorsteps and why the heart is always missing.
They’d been frustrated and drained. Running from Heaven and Hell, avoiding angels and demons alike, is taking it out of them. So they’d decided to close the files and have a few drinks. Or Dean had decided to do that and Sam had, finally, followed Dean to the bottle and then happily into the land of intoxication.
After that… well fuck. Dean really doesn’t need to relive that. He needs to forget that and hope Sam doesn’t even remember.
As if on cue, like he knows Dean’s thinking about him, Sam starts to stir. Dean doesn’t even wait for him to open his eyes. He bolts from the bed and locks himself in the bathroom before Sam can even utter his first complaint about a hangover. And, being the lightweight he is, he’ll no doubt have a pounding headache. Dean’s almost thankful he has a higher tolerance because aside from a queasy stomach, he seems to be fine. Well, as long as he doesn’t consider his mortification at finally having given in to his desire to fuck his little brother.
Except they didn’t make it that far, did they? No. They’d just…
Dean shakes his head hard to get rid of those wayward thoughts and turns the shower on. A little too cold. Perfect. He’s already naked, so he steps in, full body, and gasps at the cool water. Oh well. At least certain parts of him won’t get any smart ideas when his mind wanders. And he knows it will. Probably most of the day. Great.
It’s really not fair that he has to deal with the guilt from this shit and all they did was rub off against each other. If he’s got to carry this around with him, at least they could have actually fucked. But then he thinks about Cas. Poor, sweet Cas. And he’s kind of glad they didn’t. Cas deserves better out of him. Better than Dean cheating on him with his own brother nonetheless.
But he and Cas aren’t technically together, are they? Cas admitting he finds Dean attractive to the point of distraction doesn’t a relationship make. Neither does Dean being head over heels for the falling angel. So it’s not like he’s really cheated.
A knock at the bathroom door forces Dean’s heart into this throat and cuts off his thoughts.
“Y-yeah?” He yells, wincing at the stutter in his voice.
“Going for coffee and breakfast,” Sam yells back a little quieter than normal. But the important thing is, he’s not deviating from their usual morning activities. Maybe Sam doesn’t remember. Or maybe, like Dean, he’s suppressing.
“’Kay. Something greasy, Sammy.” And that nickname rolling off his tongue now feels filthy. And hot. And his whole body flushes despite the cold water.
“Okay. Um. Yeah.” Sam sounds like he’s been punched in the gut and Dean knows he’s not as lucky as he’d hoped. Sam didn’t forget. But maybe, just maybe, he’ll realize how important it is that they don’t talk about it. Ever.
***
“What? Are we just going to pretend like it never happened?”
Dean ought to have known he couldn’t possibly be afforded that much good fortune.
They’ve just sat down across from each other at the rickety, formica table when Sam blurts out the words Dean was desperately hoping not to hear. But, he handles it like a pro. Doesn’t even look up from the splotchy paper bag from which he’s pulling a breakfast burrito when he says, “Yep.”
And that’s that. Final answer. That’s all she wrote.
If only Sam understood that.
“Oh come on, Dean. We’re good, but we’re not that good.”
Dean just shrugs and unrolls the foil from one end of the warm tortilla. He bites into it, focusing on the sage he can taste in the sausage and the tangy bite of cheese mixed with salsa. It’s perfect until he gags on his first mouthful when Sam says, “I sucked your fucking cock, Dean. And I can still taste you. So don’t make me pretend like it didn’t happen.”
Dean feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his head when he looks up to meet Sam’s steadfast and determined gaze. But he finally swallows the food without dying and he’s opening his mouth to say… what he doesn’t know, when Cas flutters into the room. Finally. A bit of luck. Because Dean doesn’t have a clue how he might have responded.
“I find myself quite famished,” Cas announces, oblivious to the tension in the room.
Sam, still staring almost angrily into Dean’s eyes, drops the burrito he hasn’t even unwrapped onto the table.
“Might as well have mine, Cas. I’m not all that hungry anymore.”
With that, Sam scoots his chair back and calmly stands. He offers Cas a small smile and throws nothing Dean’s way but an ice cold shoulder as he turns toward the bathroom.
“I’ll be ready to head out in ten. Eat fast.”
Cas takes Sam’s seat and his food without another word, quickly stuffing almost half of it into his mouth before he leans back and closes his eyes to chew.
He’s beautiful. All soft wonderment and adorable confusion. Much like he was when he first walked into Dean’s life, unaccustomed to rubbing elbows with humans. And now he’s becoming one and it’s fascinating to watch. Plus, right now, it gives Dean’s mind something on which to focus so he isn’t turning the Sam conundrum over and over.
“Good?” Dean asks, lifting his cup to take a sip of lukewarm coffee.
“Hm?” Cas responds, eyes opening slowly as he swallows what amounts to most of Sam’s breakfast.
“The burrito. Is it good?”
Cas’ brow furrows and he thinks entirely too hard about his answer. But that’s how Cas does everything. With utmost concentration and devotion. Dean thinks he’d be an incredible lover.
“It is spicy. Very cheesy.” Cas takes another small bite, and then nods, “Yes. It is good.”
And this sets the tone for the rest of the day. Sam runs hot and cold, easily exchanging his icy glares for heated stares in the blink of an eye all while Cas follows them around, too tired to continue his search for his Father. But not at all too tired to plant himself right in the middle of Dean’s incestuous freak out.
Dean exposes Baby to bumpy dirt road after bumpy dirt road, eases down gravel driveways and winces as he hears the little pings against her undercarriage. And he ignores the looks Sam gives him. The ones that say ‘you’re such a prick’ right along with the ones that say ‘I’m dying to get my hands on you again.’ And, of course, there’s also the random ‘it’s just a fucking car, Dean.’ But those are by far the worst and Dean shoots his own ‘fuck you’ glance right back when he feels that look boring into the side of his head.
But for all the beating and banging on his most prized possession, they get nowhere. Their suits and ties earn them distrusting side-eyes and not much information. And by the time they’re rolling into the diner down the road from their motel, they know next to nothing. Which is only slightly more than they knew yesterday. Or two days ago when they first got here.
And the tension is still so thick it’s hard for Dean to breathe. And Cas still seems to be completely oblivious while Sam goes from one extreme (outright anger) to the other (hungry need) every few minutes.
Dean seriously considers skipping dinner altogether. But then he remembers just how delicious the burgers are in the little backwoods diner and decides the awkwardness is totally worth it. Besides, Cas keeps looking at him with that odd little tilt to his head and that strange glint in his eyes and Dean thinks maybe, just maybe, things are about to change for them.
Of course, it couldn’t happen at a worse time. What with Sam going all Dollanganger on him suddenly and Dean not quite minding. Except that he does mind because it’s wrong. Now if only he could actually convince himself to mind. Fuck.
When Dean puts the car in park, Cas is the first to open his door. And Sam is the first to speak.
“Why don’t you go on in, Cas? Dean wants a burger and I’ll have a Caesar Salad. One water and one coke. And then whatever you want.”
Cas glances between the diner and the two of them like he’s not sure if he can handle a task as big as ordering food on his own. But then his stomach grumbles impatiently and he makes his decision.
“Burger, Caesar Salad, water, and coke. And whatever I want?”
Sam nods encouragingly and Castiel, feeling bolstered by Sam’s faith in him, shuts the door and charges forward, a man on a mission.
And then it’s just Sam. And Dean. And the huge ass elephant that’s been riding along with them all day. Dean thinks about making a break for it but he’s sure Sam’s expecting it so he knows he won’t get too far. Best to just bite the bullet then.
“Okay. It happened. It’s not happening again. And that’s all there is to it.”
But even though Dean isn’t looking at Sam, he can feel that glare burning into him and he knows that’s not the end of it. Sammy’s stubborn like that. Too much like their dad really. That was one thing Sam always got wrong. He and their dad didn’t butt heads because they were too different. It was because they were too much alike.
“Why is it not happening again? Is it Cas? Are you guys…?”
“No!” Dean is quick to deny. And then, sheepishly, he adds, “Not yet. But maybe? I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter because even if Cas wasn’t in the picture, you and I would not be doing that again.”
Ten times the neon open sign flashes and illuminates the steering wheel Dean is staring at before Sam speaks again.
“Yes we would. Maybe not right now. But a few months down the road we’d find our way to the bottom of a bottle and then into bed. And that would keep happening until we finally just decided to forgo the alcohol. I think we were always going to end up there, Dean. And I made my peace with that a long time ago. I think I’ve always known it’s you. Normal isn’t in the cards for me and if that means I get you? I’m okay with it. More than.”
“Sammy-“ Dean starts, already searching for something he can say to discourage Sam. Anything to get them off this path because that way lies madness. But Sam’s hand finds its way to his thigh, squeezing gently just once before it’s gone. And that small touch sends Dean’s heart into overdrive and all his blood rushing south.
“It’s okay. We can take it slow. And if you want Cas? Go for it. I’m not going to stand in your way. But I’m not giving you up either so I hope he’s okay with sharing.”
And with that, Sam gets out of the car and Dean would swear there’s more pep in his step than there’s been all day. Dean has to sit for a minute and give his body time to relax while he attempts to put the last five minutes of his life in a vault at the back of his mind, one stamped heavily with ‘DO NOT OPEN’ and ‘FRAGILE.’ But his thigh is still tingling and he can still feel the ghost of Sam’s lips from last night.
When he looks up, he sees Sam and Cas sitting across from each other, forks in hand. Cas is saying something, that adorable mask of confusion plastered on his face and Sam’s grin is growing with each word and they’re both so fucking beautiful that Dean’s heart cracks a little at the sight. His baby brother and his angel. And he wants them both so much he aches with it.
As if Dean’s thoughts reach out to him, Cas turns and meets Dean’s eyes through the glass and there’s that exciting little tingle running through his body, the one Cas has been inciting for so very long now. And when Sam turns to motion him in, Dean just feels home and love and family and need and all of it is so mixed up and jumbled. Dean isn’t sure what Sam is to him anymore but he does know that losing him isn’t an option.
But he sees his burger sitting there getting cold and even if he doesn’t know how he’s going to fix his screwed up life, he does know he wants some beef. And the company of his two favorite people. So he finally opens his door and steps out of the car.
***
“The victims don’t seem to have anything in common,” Cas announces, as if Sam and Dean haven’t already figured that out. As if that hasn’t been the crux of the problem all along.
“Really, Cas? Hadn’t noticed,” Dean replies, slightly irritably. But hey. They’ve been at this for two days, no one is cooperating, and he’s still no closer to figuring out his little conundrum. Granted it’s only been a couple of hours, but still. Dean’s not used to working out anything except how to get dressed and out the door without waking last night’s bed partner. So this is all new for him.
“Drink your beer, Dean,” Sam says with long suffering patience and a soft fond sigh, “Let us go over this. Maybe all we need is a fresh pair of eyes.”
Relenting, because he shouldn’t be taking his frustration out on Castiel anyway, Dean leans back against the headboard and stares at the ceiling as Sam starts from the very beginning.
Dean listens as Sam lists each victim. Four of them are teenagers, all attending the same high school. And if it weren’t for the fifth victim, who seems to have no ties to the school whatsoever, that’s where they’d be investigating. But that one oddball is throwing the whole thing off.
“Maybe he doesn’t have anything to do with the case,” Dean throws out as Sam is going into detail about how Corbin Smith had recently turned forty and still lived in his mom’s basement. Honestly, it feels a lot like Norman Bates. “He’s the only thing throwing this off.”
Dean doesn’t look, but he can feel Sam’s eyes on him when he says, “It fits the pattern, Dean. Dismembered with body parts being left on doorsteps. Missing heart. There’s a connection to the others, we’re just missing it.”
Dean rolls his eyes and lifts himself off the bed to grab another beer, “Yeah well, I say the forty year old virgin isn’t one of ours. He just doesn’t fit.”
When Dean stands, unscrewing the top from his fresh beer, he meets Sam’s eyes and watches as his facial expression shifts from ‘you are such an idiot’ to ‘you are a fucking genius.’
“That’s it. I don’t know if we can really confirm it. But come on. The guy lived in his mom’s basement. He collected rocks and stamps and porcelain dolls. His mom said he never went anywhere but work. He really could have been a forty year old virgin. And I think…”
Sam trails off, sliding papers around until he jerks one up and waves it around in triumph.
“This! The school hosted some sort of sex ed event a couple months ago and all of our teen victims signed a pledge of abstinence.”
Dean snorts, “Yeah. I did that a time or two as well. Nobody sticks to that.”
He’s in the middle of a swig of beer when Sam shrugs, easy as you please, and replies, “I did for a long time. But I was holding out for someone special so it wasn’t difficult,” And then he goes right back to looking through notes like he didn’t just leave Dean struggling to swallow instead of choke.
Cas, who’s been silently listening, picks that moment to join the conversation, “And was it worth it? Holding out for this special person?”
“Yeah. But it took him years to come around and by the time he did I’d already… well, let’s just say he wasn’t my first like I’d wanted him to be. But everything else was absolutely perfect until he got up the next morning all freaked out on me.”
Castiel nods and seems genuinely upset by the news. “I am sorry he does not return your affections, Sam.”
“Oh he does. I just have to wait for him to realize and be willing to admit it. That could take a while.”
Sam doesn’t look at him even once while he’s speaking; he just starts stacking papers, steady and calm as ever. And that’s when it hits Dean that Sam really wants this. He’s apparently already dealt with any issue he might have had about sleeping with his brother and he’s just ready to commit to the insanity. And Dean’s trying to decide if he’s even capable of getting to that point when Cas speaks up again from where he’s seated at the table full of research.
“I was wondering if it would be too much of an imposition if I slept here tonight. I see there are only two beds but I can sleep on the floor.”
Dean nods instantly, and then asks, “How often are you doing that now? Sleeping.”
The unasked question is, ‘how fast are you falling?’
“Once every few days. But I’m traveling a lot so I’m tiring myself out faster.”
Fast. He’s falling so fast.
“You can stay here, Cas. And Dean will share his bed so you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Sam offers so easily. Nonchalant and without a hint of jealousy.
And a few months ago Dean would have protested, if only to save face. But he’s tired of running from this. He’s tired of being scared to touch Castiel. And maybe he’s exhausted from spending most of his life carefully cataloguing the ways he’s allowed to touch Sammy.
So after a quick glance at Sam, his face hidden behind a curtain of hair but his body relaxed and unconcerned, Dean says, “Yeah, Cas. You can sleep with me. Bed’s plenty big enough.”
Dean sees Cas eye the bed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation and he can’t help but reach out to gently squeeze Cas’ shoulder when he passes by to throw his empty bottle in the trash. Just some mild reassurance. After all, Sam is going to be in the bed next to them. It’s not like they’re going to get up to anything but a little light snuggling if even that.
***
“Shit Cas,” Dean whispers, eyes darting over to make sure Sam’s still lying motionless.
Cas wiggles under him, hands sliding under Dean’s shirt again, fingernails scratching lightly. And then warm lips press into his neck and Dean’s eyes fall closed.
“Why haven’t we ever done this before?” Cas asks, all eager innocence and Dean shivers at the warm breath tickling over his skin.
And God help him, Dean doesn’t know. They should have. They should have been doing this for years. Because much like Sam folds over him perfectly, Cas fits under him just right.
Cas arches up and Dean gasps, feels how hard Cas is inside the pajamas Dean gave him to wear and then the mental image of Cas’ cock leaking into the material of those pajamas, Dean’s, makes his dick jerk hard. And to silence the whimper that bubbles up out of his throat, he leans in and captures Cas’ plush lips.
And it’s so different from kissing Sam. He can tell Cas has never done this and a thrill shoots through him. He didn’t get to be Sam’s first but he gets that honor with Cas. So he takes it slow, offers Cas his mouth with only flashes of tongue here and there. And Cas takes it so sweetly, tilting his head to the side and letting Dean own his lips.
By the time they’re both breathless enough to pull away, Dean’s fingers have found their way into Cas’ hair and Cas’ hips are shifting up over and over again, seeking friction against Dean’s crotch. And Dean lets him have it, just bears down to give Cas a solid surface and watches as the intense joy and pleasure washes over his face.
“This is…” Cas says, low and gravelly, but he trails off when a shudder takes him and his pace picks up.
Dean lets his eyes roam over Cas’ flushed face and his parted lips. Enjoys the small moans and sighs emanating from the body under him. And finally finishes for him, “amazing,” just as orgasm seizes Cas’ body and he jerks and then stills as he spills into the pajamas he’s wearing. Dean’s pajamas, he remembers again. And without warning, Dean’s cock gives a pulse or two and he’s coming.
And it’s so shocking because all he’s been able to think about is making it good for Cas and his own arousal has gone unnoticed. But now he’s wrapped in the firm embrace of a soul shattering release and the only thing that keeps him grounded are those crystal blue eyes staring up at him in awe.
“Beautiful,” Cas says and Dean can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he turns his head and lowers his body to rest on top of the slightly shaky one under him. The side of his face lands on the cool pillow and his eyes meet those of his brother. Wide open and staring at him. At them.
And the look on his face says he’d like nothing more than to help Cas make a Dean sandwich. Dean gets up then, levering himself off Cas’ body to go find something to clean them up. And he resolutely doesn’t think about the fact that Sam watched them. Or just how much he’d like to have Sam on top of him while Cas is under him.
***
“Okay,” Sam says excitedly as he climbs back in the car after interviewing Mrs. Smith for the second time, “so obviously she wouldn’t know if he was a virgin for sure. But she says he’s never had a girlfriend or boyfriend that she knew of. Though she did once find a collection of porn mags under his mattress.”
“Oh, he was a virgin for sure,” Dean replies.
So now they have their connection. And this weirdness sitting between them in the front seat. And Cas sitting in the back grinning widely up at Dean in the rearview mirror.
Dean is more confused than he was when Rhonda talked him into her panties and he loved it.
“Okay, so what now?” Dean asks because knowing the connection doesn’t really give them the perpetrator.
“So now we figure out what would want virgin hearts and why.”
Except it’s not that easy. They spend another night sorting through stacks of books and papers and scouring the web and by midnight they have two different possibilities but still no concrete evidence pointing to one person in particular.
It could either be someone dipping into dark magic for any number of spells that require a pure heart. Or it could be a god or goddess requiring a sacrifice because they’ve dealt with that before. But at least they’re getting closer to solving the case even if Dean isn’t any closer to figuring his life out.
Cas is yawning again though which is worrisome to Dean because the only travelling he’s done today has been by car or on foot. He shouldn’t be wearing down this fast.
“Staying again tonight, Cas?” Sam asks and he at least has the decency to blush a little.
“If you don’t mind. Though I think perhaps you should sleep with Dean tonight.”
Sam cuts his eyes over at Dean who feels his own face go blood red even though Castiel’s suggestion is completely innocent.
“I don’t want you to feel threatened by my relationship with Dean, Sam. I don’t intend to take him away from you. So I think it would be best if we… take turns.”
Or maybe not so innocent after all.
“Cas, we aren’t… we’re not… I mean…” Dean stutters, trying to find something to say that won’t give them away but also isn’t a lie because he can’t lie to Cas.
But Sam cuts in before Dean can figure it out, “What Dean means is that it’s only been the one time and he’s sort of determined not to let it happen again. So he’s not going to get in bed with me.”
Sam gets up then and heads to the bathroom leaving Dean alone with Cas and the huge admission Sam just threw out there. Great. The bathroom door closes and a few seconds later the shower turns on. And all the while, Cas is staring at Dean with a mixture of sadness and confusion playing over his face.
“I don’t understand. I thought you and Sam were lovers.” And he’s looking to Dean for some sort of explanation. Like the fact that Sam is his baby brother isn’t reason enough not to be fucking him on a regular basis.
“You thought Sam and I were lovers and you were just okay with it? Newsflash, Cas, Sam is my little brother. Not only are we both guys but there’s the incest factor to consider here.”
Cas tilts his head to the side and for a moment it’s obvious he’s lost in thought but then he shakes his head and motions for Dean to sit on the foot of the bed closest to him.
“Our Father created intercourse for two reasons, Dean. Procreation and intimacy. It is not a sin for two people who cannot conceive to engage in intercourse because it is also intended as a way for humans to show love and affection. You and Sam love each other, correct?”
Dean doesn’t even hesitate to answer in the affirmative. There’s never been another person in his life whom he loves more though, anymore, Cas comes damned close.
“You are both consenting?”
Here Dean pauses and thinks about all the alcohol that had been involved. And he almost says no. But then he thinks about all the close calls before and how sometimes there’d been nothing but adrenaline flowing between them. So yeah. They’d both wanted it. He nods again and Cas smiles.
“Then I see nothing wrong with the two of you sharing an intimate relationship. You are not misusing the gifts our Father has bestowed upon you. And you are not harming anyone.”
“Yeah well, what about the sex outside of marriage thing?” And Dean knows he’s just scrambling for something now. Anything that can keep him from having to deal with the fact that he’s wanted his baby brother since forever.
“Our Father doesn’t concern himself with any government’s definition of marriage. A marriage of souls is all that is required. And there is no question about the connection you have with your brother, Dean. Nor is there any question about the bond you and I share.”
Sam picks that moment to emerge from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips and tiny droplets of water still clinging to his slightly pink skin. And Dean’s throat goes dry and his body heats up. And when Sam glances at him before grabbing his duffle Dean knows Sam was aiming for that reaction.
“Maybe,” Dean starts and has to clear his throat to continue, “Maybe you and Sam should share tonight. I need to… think.”
Cas nods just as Sam says, “I’m fine with sharing with Cas. The bed. You. Whatever.”
And now it’s all out in the open and Dean feels more conflicted than ever. They both say they’re okay with sharing, but Dean still feels like he needs to pick. And a huge part of him feels like he’s not allowed to choose either of them. Sam is his brother, Cas is his angel, and he can’t soil either of them.
***
When Dean wakes up the next morning after a fitful night’s sleep, the first thing he sees is Cas’ face across the gap between his bed and Sam’s. His expression is soft in sleep and it takes a minute for Dean to realize that Sam is curled up behind him. And they’re cuddling.
But Sam isn’t asleep. No. He’s watching Dean over the top of Cas’ head. And Dean is mesmerized by the sight. Because they look like they belong like that, wrapped around each other in a sleepy embrace. And it kind of feels like he should be right there with them.
Sam holds Dean’s gaze as he tilts his face down and places a barely there kiss on the top of Cas’ head. And then his hand starts moving up and down Cas’ arm.
“Cas? Come on. Gotta wake up.” The words are right, but his tone is off. Sweet. Tender. Fucking hot and Dean finds himself growing hard in his underwear just watching and listening.
“Mmm,” is Cas’ sleepy reply, but he burrows deeper under the covers, closer to Sam and Sam’s smile grows.
“Dean’s watching us. And I think he likes what he sees.”
Castiel’s eyes slowly open at that and the corner of his mouth tugs upward when he sees Dean staring at them.
“I believe you are correct, Sam.”
There’s a hint of mischievousness in both sets of the eyes staring back at him so Dean tosses his covers back and levers himself out of bed. Maybe he can get them moving without having to endure any seduction shenanigans because he knows Sam wouldn’t be above using Cas to tempt him. As if Sam isn’t tempting enough himself. But the two of them together… Yeah. Dean’s going to lose this battle and he can’t even really care all that much.
“Yeah yeah. Now get up. I want to find this bastard today and get out of here by tonight.”
Fortunately neither of them argues with him and within the hour they’re in the car again. They get the same cold shoulder from every person they visit that they’ve been getting all along. But that’s okay because now they’re fairly certain they know what’s going on.
According to Castiel, they most likely have another pissed off god on their hands. The sun god Huitzilopochtli is Cas’ best guess as he requires a beating heart be sacrificed and allows for cannibalism or gifting of other body parts to important members of society. And, so far, it seems to be doctors, lawyers, and local politicians who’ve been surprised with random body parts.
“I am confused though. Huitzilopochtli does not require virginal sacrifices.” Cas says from the backseat as they drive down yet another driveway where they’ve been turned away. This is a close knit community though, and as much as they want the case solved, they really don’t want an outsider to be the one to do it.
“Everything else fits though, right Cas?” Sam asks, shuffling through a few papers to find whoever he thinks they should talk to next.
“Yes. Everything else fits perfectly.”
“Okay. But who then? Are we looking for an actual god throwing a tantrum? Or a person trying to appease a god?”
Castiel actually shrugs and Dean thinks he’s probably spent too much time with them since Sam gives him the same answer. But Dean’s determined to take care of this shit today one way or the other. He doesn’t, however, mean to endanger Castiel in the process. But sometimes shit happens.
***
He’s out here somewhere. Dean knows it. But it’s starting to get dark and one row of corn looks exactly like the next. Which is probably exactly why the bastard picked a cornfield in which to hold his rituals.
“I’ll see if I can locate him,” Cas says just before he disappears and Dean doesn’t even get a chance to tell him to be careful. He’s still a virgin after all. But he’s also still an angel so Dean thinks he’ll probably be fine.
He and Sam keep travelling toward the center of the field. Or what Dean hopes is the center anyway. He can’t be certain. But then Dean hears soft chanting carrying on the breeze from his right and he grabs at Sam and turns them toward it.
Turns out they have both a god throwing a tantrum and an idiot trying to appease him on their hands. And while they’ve convinced the idiot - the town mortician nonetheless (as if being a mortician wasn’t creepy enough on its own, the guy had to throw human sacrifice in the mix) - to turn himself in to local authorities, they still have to take care of the god. Who, thankfully, hasn’t been warned of their impending arrival.
So they walk carefully toward the melodic chanting and Dean isn’t surprised when they start to pick up the scent of burning incense. Cas still isn’t back by the time they’re approaching a lit opening in the field but Dean can’t put too much thought into that because he can see the back of a person kneeling at the altar in the middle of the cut out circle which, from above, probably looks a bit like a crop circle.
The chanting is louder now, the incense so strong it’s making him dizzy, and it takes him several seconds to realize there’s someone spread out on that altar. A male someone.
About the time Sam gasps, Dean notices the long heavy wings falling over either side. Black. Almost so opaque as to be invisible. But there nonetheless. And the world around him is trying to blink out of existence when it finally registers that it’s Castiel being offered as a sacrifice. The purest of hearts.
Everything goes topsy turvy, a mixture of fear and the heat and the smell trying to bring him down, but then Sam’s there, gripping him by the elbow and dragging him forward.
“Gotta save Cas, Dean. The knife.”
Then everything snaps back into focus. Dean has it. The knife he’s to use to slay the sun god. The warrior sun god. And until this very moment, seeing Castiel shirtless and in his full glory, Dean wondered how he’d be able to do it. But now, to protect his own, it seems like such a simple task.
The fucker is so caught up in his own chanting that he doesn’t even realize they’re approaching until it’s too late. He gets in one good swing with the blade in his hand, catches the underside of Dean’s arm before Dean drives the knife he’s holding into the god’s throat, slicing cleanly through the artery there.
And, as of now, he’s only human. Hasn’t yet been returned to his godlike state. He goes down so easily. And then Dean follows him. Adrenaline gone almost as quickly as it came. And the blood loss from his wound probably doesn’t help much.
The last thing he sees before darkness takes him is Castiel. All those black feathers flickering in and out of reality.
***
“I’ve done this before, Cas,” is the next thing Dean hears.
“Yes, but, I could heal him and the bleeding would stop immediately.”
“But at what cost? You’d probably be out for days.”
“It would be worth it. It’s too much blood, Sam.”
“He’s fine. I promise. It looks worse than it is.”
And though Sam is trying to keep Castiel calm, Dean can tell he’s worried too. His voice has that slight edge of hysteria to it.
“Yeah,” Dean croaks, alerting them both to the fact that he’s conscious, “it’s fine, Cas. Just a scratch.”
Dean expects Cas to argue with him. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, Cas leans over him and warms Dean’s cool, clammy forehead with his lips. One, two, three kisses before he just leans there, mouth pressed into Dean’s skin.
And that’s where Cas stays while Sam patches him up. Dean doesn’t complain at all. He’s too busy enjoying the attention and wondering how the hell Sam and Cas managed to get him all the way to the motel without him waking up.
“Huitzilopochtli was trying to regain power over the sun,” Sam starts to explain as he’s wrapping the last bits of tape around the bandage on Dean’s arm, “It had been so long since anyone had offered him a sacrifice that his power was waning and he’d been reduced to human. The guy from town was just a minion, bringing him virginal sacrifices because he thought they’d be more powerful. I guess when he saw Castiel… well, he’s a pure Angel and it doesn’t get much better than that, does it?”
“Your wings,” Dean starts, wincing when Sam pulls the tape a little too tightly, “hey, watch it.”
“There was a spell,” Castiel says before Sam can grumble too much about Dean’s whining, “the circle drew me in and kept me in my true form when it bound me to the altar.”
“But they were fading in and out,” Dean says.
“Because my grace is fading. You were aware of this, Dean. I am falling.” And Cas doesn’t even sound upset or bothered by it.
“They were so…” And suddenly he realizes there’s no word suitable. Nothing to describe the magnificence of Castiel’s wings. “Beautiful,” is what he settles on.
“They are,” Castiel agrees, “but it is a small price to pay.”
For what Castiel doesn’t say, but his lips find contact with Dean’s skin again and Dean thinks he doesn’t have to say anything at all.
And that, just knowing what Castiel is giving up for this, for him, is enough.
“Okay,” Dean says, turning to catch Sammy’s eye where he’s still sitting by the bed after patching up Dean’s arm. And that’s all he says, but from the way Sam smiles at him, he’s pretty sure Sam knows just what he means.
***
Dean’s arm is pretty much healed by the next afternoon and from the way Sam keeps shooting Cas the stink eye and just how tired Cas is, Dean knows exactly why. As if there was really any question anyway. And as thankful as Dean is, because now they can get out of this Podunk town, he does wish Cas would be better about reserving his energy.
But when Dean says as much Cas just shrugs and goes back to packing their clothes. He’s staying with them for a while so he can recover enough to continue his search. Dean isn’t complaining about that because not only does he like knowing Cas is safe, he hasn’t yet had a chance to seal the deal so to speak. But now, thanks to Cas, he’s healed up enough for certain activities and he knows just the spot.
Not the motel room. This shitty little room doesn’t deserve this memory. Or maybe this memory is going deserve a better setting. Whatever. There’s a little cliff on the way out of town, overgrown and rarely used. But Dean intends to make use of it today.
When Dean pulls one of the bedspreads off and starts folding it up Sam looks at him questioningly for a few seconds before realization sets in and he grins. Dean figures the motel will charge for the missing blanket, but Jerry Elamon won’t mind too much since he doesn’t actually exist. He tosses it into the trunk just before he slams it shut with all their worldly possessions inside. And then they’re off.
***
Dean pulls into the little clearing just before sunset. Sam already knows why they’re here, but Castiel doesn’t even ask. He just climbs out alongside them and, probably just to prove he still can, blinks out and then back in, moving from beside the car to the roof. And Dean can’t even bitch about it. Only Cas though. Sam better not go getting any ideas about climbing his gigantic ass up there.
But he doesn’t. Instead he leans up against baby’s fender while Dean takes up his customary spot propped on her grill. And then there’s nothing but silence as they watch the sun slowly melt over the horizon, the tall grass surrounding them swaying in the gentle summer breeze.
The first crickets have already begun their chirping and the fireflies are flitting around when Sam breaks the silence, “It’s okay, you know,” he says as if he’s just continuing a conversation and not starting one. He stops there and Dean sighs. He should have known they’d have to talk first.
“What’s okay?”
“That you love us both. That you want us both. I’m okay with it.”
Cas pipes in then from his spot above them, “As am I.”
Dean cranes his neck to look from Sam to Cas and then he nods. Truth be told, Dean is okay with it as well. More than okay. And he thinks it might be time to pull out that blanket now.
***
It doesn’t really go how Dean expects. For some reason he had it in his head that Sam and Cas only wanted him and not each other. So when, after they’ve spread the blanket out on the cool grass and gotten situated under the blackening sky, Sam pulls Cas into a soft, sweet kiss, Dean is both instantly aroused and a little bit in awe.
The kiss seems to go on forever and it’s happening right in front of Dean’s face because they’re on opposite sides of him and leaning across his chest to meet only inches from his eyes. And the whole time, Dean can’t do anything but watch as Sam nibbles and sucks at Cas’ mouth, tongue teasing at the seam of his lips, teeth flashing here and there as he catches Cas’ bottom lip. And when Dean moans, deep and throaty, against his will, Sam pulls back with a small grin and Castiel almost topples over trying to chase his mouth.
“Easy, Cas. Dean wants to kiss you now.”
And just like Sam’s word is a command Cas can’t resist, he turns toward Dean. And Dean doesn’t waste any time searching for his brother’s flavor on his angel’s lips. And then vice versa. Kiss after kiss until Dean can hardly breathe with how much he wants this and suddenly all his reasons for not doing this sooner seem ridiculous.
When Dean starts working the buttons of Cas’ shirt open, he wriggles out of his trench coat and slings a leg over Dean’s lap. Cas lifts up and then plants himself on Dean’s thighs while Sam slots in behind him, reaching down to open the fly on Cas’ jeans.
While Sam is busy down there, Dean starts his quest to taste every inch of Cas’ skin and fuck is Cas receptive. The angel seems intent on making sure Dean achieves his goals because he offers up every patch of flesh Dean seeks and soon enough Dean has him naked from the waist up and spread out on his back on the blanket, his head resting in Sam’s lap.
Castiel’s stomach quivers noticeably when Dean plants several open mouthed kisses there and Dean looks up to catch Sam’s eye, ‘help him relax,’ Dean says without a word passing between them. And, like always, Sam hears him. Dean has just enough time to see Sam’s fingers sinking into Cas’ hair before he turns his attention down to the cock trying to push through the opening in Cas’ trousers.
Dean’s hands are trembling when he reaches out to run the tips of his fingers over the material stretching over the hard flesh. But when Cas gasps and surges up toward his hand, Dean feels emboldened and palms Cas completely.
“Dean…” Cas moans and is effectively cut off by Sam’s pointer finger disappearing into his mouth.
“Suck him, Dean. Wanna see you do it. Those lips… He’s gonna come so fast for you.”
It takes Dean all of three seconds to have Cas’ dick out of his underwear and against his lips. And just so he can see Sam’s reaction, Dean holds eye contact while he rubs Cas’ leaking cockhead over his bottom lip, leaving behind glossy smears of precome.
“Shit, Dean,” Sam sighs, and Dean smiles briefly before sliding Cas’ cock between his lips.
It’s been years since he’s done this but it’s like riding a bike and Cas is freely whimpering for him in minutes. Dean gets lost in the sensations, the taste of Cas sitting heavily on his tongue, the feel of the spongey head hitting the roof of his mouth and then his throat, the smell of Cas, the sounds he’s making… it all comes together and makes Dean harder than he’s ever been in his life and by the time Cas is fighting to breathe and coming down his throat, Dean is rutting like an animal against the ground.
Once he’s swallowed the last drop, Dean pulls off and glances up at Sam. Sam, who is currently staring at Dean with so much hunger it’s almost scary.
“Lube?” is all Sam says before he gently lowers Cas’ head to the blanket and stands to start toward the car.
“Side pocket of my duffle,” Dean offers, voice raspy and shaky and even though he’s so horny he hurts and he’s still recovering from the blow job he just gave, he starts trying to get his clothes off. Because Sam’s going to fuck him and he needs to be naked for that.
Sam’s going to fuck him.
His baby brother is going to fuck him.
And that thought sends a thrill shooting up his spine and he shudders. They’ve been waiting for this for so long. And they deserve it. They do. They both want it.
There’s no reason they can’t.
Sam comes back with the lube but no condom and Dean doesn’t say a word. Instead he starts shimmying out of his clothes and then pulls at Sam’s. The very second Sam’s chest is exposed, Dean finds a nipple and latches on, teeth scraping tenderly over the small nub.
“Here, Cas. You can help with this.”
Dean doesn’t even know to what Sam is referring because he’s making his way back and forth between Sam’s nipples, leaving tiny teeth marks along the way. But then there are hands tugging at the last article of clothing he’s wearing - his underwear - and they’re too small to be Sam’s. And then it hits him what is getting ready to happen. Cas is going to open him up for Sam. Dean whines and bites down a little too hard.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, Dean. Just let Cas get you ready for me. Gonna feel so good.”
Dean kind of loses it after that. He knows Cas preps him, those wide fingers slipping in and out, bending just so, because Cas might be a virgin, but he knows Dean’s body inside and out. He knows he spends an inordinate amount of time nibbling at Sam’s chest. And he knows that he somehow fumbles Sam’s jeans open. But his next crystal clear memory is him on his hands and knees over Cas as Sam presses relentlessly into him. One long, slow slide that burns so good.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groans, hearing the pleading in his own voice. But God. He’s waited so long for this. And he just wants it. All. Now. Hard and deep.
“Open your eyes, Dean,” and that’s Cas’ voice coming from under him.
When Dean does finally pry his eyes open, Cas is there, looking up at him, his pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight. His blue eyes are deeper than ever, reflecting the heavens above them, little stars twinkling in and out, as if Cas contains them all within his body.
“God, Cas, you’re beautiful.”
Dean means to say more, but Sam bottoms out then, hip bones cutting into Dean’s ass cheeks and fingers digging into his waist. Dean shivers, full bodied, and wiggles his ass because words are beyond him now. But that’s okay, because Castiel has it covered.
“I believe he wants more, Sam. He is quite… euphoric at the moment.”
Euphoric. Yes. That’s the word. Like it’s Christmas and his birthday and he won the lottery all at once. And he really does want more. Wants Sam to move. Fuck him hard and dirty so he feels it for days.
But, instead, Sam pulls out excruciatingly slowly, fingernails biting Dean’s skin as he fights to restrain himself. And Dean knows why. Sam’s taking this slowly because they can do filthy later. And Dean’s sure they’ll get there. But this doesn’t have to be hurried. They’ve got nowhere to be - impending apocalypse notwithstanding - and no one is going to run away this time. So when Sam slides forward again, just as painfully slowly, Dean just moans and goes with it.
Cas lets Dean taste his lips while Sam gives it to Dean sweetly, dropping hot, wet kisses up and down his spine while his hands explore skin he’s never touched like this. He’s yearned for it though, just as Dean has. And Dean lets him take his time, lets Sammy touch him wherever and however he wants.
It seems to go on forever, Sam dipping in and out of his body. Cas’ slow, lazy kisses. And all the while, Dean’s cock sways heavy and hard between his legs, balls aching and throbbing. The need to come is urgent and pressing but the wait is a delicious sort of torture so Dean tries to hold out.
And manages right up to the point where Cas reaches down and takes him in hand.
“Fuck, Cas. Please.”
The knowing Dean’s body inside and out thing comes in handy again when Cas starts stroking him. He is able to match the pace Sam is setting and it takes only a few minutes before Dean is shaking with how bad he wants to let go. He almost begs. Would beg happily. Except he comes before he can, spilling over Cas’ hand and Sam just fucks him through it.
Keeps fucking him until he suddenly gasps and stills and Dean groans as Sam pulses over and over again, coming deep in Dean’s body while Cas lies under him, smiling up at the two of them softly like he’s just witnessed something beautiful and amazing rather than sinful. And that helps Dean feel a little better about the whole situation.
***
The once warm breeze is starting to chill their sweaty skin and Dean knows they should pack up and move on. But he has his angel on one side and his brother on the other and he feels relaxed like he hasn’t in such a long time. It’s deceptive, he knows. The calm before the storm. But he’s going to revel in it as along as he can.