Fic: Between Heaven and Hell (NC-17)
Oh gosh. BACKSTORY: Long time ago, belledewinter made me this amazing, fantastic Dean/Sam/Castiel/Gabriel fic and I have owed her since.
Title: Between Heaven and Hell
Author: lilchibibunny
Rating: NC-17 (PORN AGAIN, WHY DO I DO THIS)
Word Count: 4,406.
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Cas/Sam, hints to Sam/Dean, Dean/Cas, Cas/Sam.
Disclaimer: Characters to Kripke and the CW.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Oh wow. Um. Threesome, dirty talk, manhandled!Dean, multiple orgasms.
Summary: Sam's taken his rule in Hell and Cas has taken a prime spot in Heaven, leaving Dean alone on Earth. So they bicker when Dean happens to try and bring them together. Dean won't let them bicker tonight.
Author's Note: Written for the Dean/Cas/Sam Meme, this prompt: Castiel is the new Sheriff of Heaven. Sam has ended up as Prince of Hell. Dean is pissed that he's still a tiny human, but when they stop making the world all about politics and each other for more than five minutes and give him their full attention, he absolutely loves it, despite himself. My bb wanted it posted, so I guess I'm posting it so she will post her story because it is ten times better than this one.
Dean Winchester knows you never call the Devil ‘Old Scratch’. His brother told him so. And his brother...well, his brother would know.
The last time he tried to talk to Sam, Cas came down pretty fuckin’ quick and laid down the law about how Sam didn’t need to be all up in his brother’s space now that Sam had chosen to stay and rule Hell. And then Sam starts talk about how Dean doesn’t need Cas because Cas had chosen to stay and sheriff Heaven, and goddammit all they did was talk.
Dean prays and goes to the crossroads separately and he usually keeps it business related but sometimes he misses them.
There are differences now. They are different people now.
Sam runs a little colder now. Of course, when you get him worked up, he’s hot, but underneath the warm skin he’s a few degrees cooler. His mouth is always cool, which makes it kind of crazy when he’s running his tongue up and down skin. He’s always been kind of rough when it comes to sex, but now he knows the right blend between pleasure and pain and sometimes he likes to walk that edge if Hell’s been a little more difficult than usual. On those nights, he likes to make Dean beg and beg until he’s hoarse from talking and then he’ll let Dean come.
Castiel, however, is warm. Not hot--not at first--but in the beginning it’s a comforting warmth, like holding a mug in your hands when it’s cold outside. With Castiel, Cas is usually gentle but firm and set on what he wants. That means if he wants control this time and Dean’s being difficult, he will use that angel strength to hold Dean in place and let him know that he is going to take charge this time. And then Dean gets him worked up and his touch almost burns. He murmurs things in Dean’s ear, the weirdest, kindest bed talk that is kind of nice in that...weird way.
He calls them there together. They don’t come immediately, but Dean hasn’t called in a long time. (Having your sources in Heaven and Hell does work out in his favor every once in a while; the demons wouldn’t dare kill Dean now, and sometimes he’ll get divine intervention on a case.) He’s human, and he’s been busy. In fact, he’s still busy but being human means he’s also lonely. And the people he misses the most he just can’t call on a cell anymore. So he makes the demand at the crossroads, gets down on his knees afterward and prays, and then just walks back to the hotel room.
He waits.
Dean even pours himself a drink and he’s about to bring it to his lips when a hand comes around and touches the glass, turning it ice cold.
“And the devil, taking him up on a high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.” Dean lets him take the glass from his hand.
“Hi, Sam.”
“You called?” It’s not so much a question as a statement, and Dean shivers when he feels cold hands go under his shirts and wrap around his hips.
“Was hoping you weren’t busy.” Dean wants to say it nonchalantly, but it comes out more harsh and hateful. The reason Dean works so much now is because he doesn’t want to think about how his brother and his angel are now like giant superpowers and Dean? Dean is just a tiny little human now. He could have been something more, but then again he wouldn’t be Dean if he chose that, he would be Michael.
“Not for you. Never for you,” and Sam says it just to make Dean shiver when he puts his lips to Dean’s throat.
“So cold now, Sammy.”
Sam laughs against his skin. Even his breath is cold. “You’ll adjust. Warm me up.”
And suddenly there’s the sound of feathers and Dean looks over to Castiel. “Cas,” he says, and the smile on his face is almost sheepish.
“Dean,” Castiel says, and looks over to Sam. “Samuel.”
Dean forgets that Sam uses his grandfather’s full name for when he’s “on the job”; he told Dean that only he gets to say ‘Sam’ to him. (‘Sammy’ if he really wants something.) “Cas,” and Sam still insists with using the nickname. “How’s Heaven?”
“Struggling. But at least it’s stable.” Castiel looks to Dean. “I have not heard from you in a while, Dean. I was wondering if something was wrong.”
Before Dean can answer, Sam does it for him. “Nothing’s wrong. Now go fly back into your coop and get all your ducks in a row and leave me to my brother, Cas.”
“Dean called me here,” and Castiel’s voice is starting to get demanding now.
Sam’s hands are tight around Dean’s hips, holding him in place, but Dean still murmurs, “Cas,” and turns his arms so his palms are facing the angel. Hestitantly, Cas walks up and puts a warm hand to Dean’s face. When Dean follows the angel’s hand, Sam sneaks a cold hand up his back and makes Dean moan.
“He’s mine tonight.”
“That’s Dean’s decision, Sam,” and they both lock eyes. Castiel’s trenchcoat shivers in the back, and his wings are threatening to come out.
“Both,” Dean says and catches their attention. He may be one puny human, but he’s got the Prince of Hell and the Sheriff of Heaven watching his every move and, damn, that feels nice. “I want both of you.”
“You’ve always been a little kinky, Dean,” Sam chuckles and licks the back of Dean’s neck, making him arch a little from the cool tongue.
“Please,” Dean says, and he grabs Castiel’s suit jacket from underneath his coat, pulling him close. “Please, Cas.”
“Aww, c’mon, Cas,” Sam hisses against Dean’s ear, “it’ll be fun to take off your jacket and stay awhile.”
“Dean, this...Sam...” He takes Dean’s face in his hands, and Dean pushes into the touch. “This is not the Sam you used to know, and I’m not who you used to know. We are different.” He looks to Sam. “I’m not sure I can play the kind of games you are used to with him.”
Sam curls an arm around Dean’s middle, pulling him back from Castiel. “I don’t play games with my brother, Castiel.”
“You can’t help but play games with him, Samuel,” Castiel retorts, “it’s in your nature,” and this is exactly what Dean didn’t want. Whenever he tried to get them together in a neutral environment, they always started to fight. Dean understands that. He really does. But for fuck’s sake.
He grabs Castiel’s jacket again and pulls him forward until their noses are almost touching. When Sam gets ready to protest, Dean pushes back against him, earning a hiss from his brother. “Shut up. All I want is for you two to shut up and be with me for a little while. I haven’t seen either of you in a few months, and I’m fucking tired of having to dance around here so you two won’t fight.” He tugs on Castiel’s loose tie for emphasis. “This isn’t about your stupid little plans, this is about me, dammit. So shut up for two seconds about your work and fuck me already.”
He can feel Sam behind him, fingers twitching against Dean’s skin. And Castiel grabs his jaw roughly and says, “Shut up, Dean.” Dean opens his mouth to speak, and Cas must give a Sam a look because his hand is snaking his way up Dean’s chest, lifting his shirts up, and it’s like a cold breeze across his skin.
“Mine,” Sam snarls.
Dean’s never seen that look on Castiel’s face before, but suddenly arousal shoots down his spine and through his nerves and Dean moans, arching his back. “No, mine,” and Castiel has his hand lightly traced over the palm print burned onto Dean’s upper arm.
“Both of you are mine,” Dean corrects, gasping under the alternating temperatures of the hands on his chest and the hand on his arm, and they both look at him.
Sam smiles. “Oh, are we? Because you seem to be forgetting exactly who you’re talking to, Dean.” He looks to Castiel, who puts his hands on Dean’s hips momentarily while Sam lifts his shirts up and off, letting them drop to the floor.
“You’re still a human, Dean,” Castiel says softly. He runs his hands up Dean’s chest while Sam slides his down Dean’s sides and it’s really driving the human up the freaking wall.
Sam hooks his thumbs under the waistband of Dean’s jeans, kissing the base of his neck and letting his breath cool Dean’s skin as he says, “You’re just a human. What makes you think you can own us?”
Dean grabs Castiel’s arms and pulls him forward and hates how he has to chase Castiel’s lips and initiate the kiss. But once their lips meet, it’s Cas who pulls them flush together and makes Dean groan, Cas’ mouth hot and damp and Dean pushes against him because really, everyone has too many clothes on for his taste.
Suddenly, Dean feels his head being pulled back and Sam says, “No, no, I want to hear everything that comes out of his mouth.” Castiel instead kisses down Dean’s jaw, burning licks down his neck as Sam runs a cool finger up his spine and Dean cries out.
“For fuck’s sake, get a move on,” Dean says, grinding against Castiel. “Stop teasing.”
Sam laughs. “Yeah, Cas, stop teasing so much.” He untangles Cas’ hands from Dean and pushes the angel back; Dean forgets they are both much stronger than he is. And he gets that reminder when Sam pushes Dean on the bed and grabs Castiel. “Not yet,” he hisses, and Cas tilts his head back, letting out a groan, “let him suffer just a little.” Sam glances over to Dean as he basically rips the trenchcoat from Castiel’s shoulders. “You get up from that bed or try to rush me and it’s over.” He waits until Dean angrily shouts a yes and calls him a bitch before getting back to Castiel.
Sam works the tie over the white button-up. “I want you to keep this on,” he says.
Castiel scoffs. “You always did prefer my tie on rather than off.”
“It’s useful,” Sam says simply as he undoes the buttons, letting Castiel take off his suit jacket. “I won’t let you have him.”
Castiel hisses in a breath when Sam’s cold hands come in contact with his skin, pulling the shirt from its tucked-in place and shoving it off his shoulders. “I won’t let him rot in that hole.”
“Too bad he doesn’t like it up on the clouds, either,” Sam says, and leans over, biting the base of Castiel’s neck hard enough to draw blood. The angel growls--actually growls--and rips Sam’s shirt open. “I was nice enough to keep your shirt intact,” Sam reminds him, and now his voice is dangerously playful. It promises things Castiel isn’t sure he signed up for.
“You don’t care,” Castiel replies and Sam laughs.
“Never did care,” and he licks his way into Cas’ mouth and Dean swears he hears a small hissing of cold meeting hot. It’s angry, almost like a contest of who can make the worst sounds come out of who, and really Dean’s the winner.
He watches them and slowly pushes his pants and underwear out of the way, trying not to make a lot of noise as he jerks himself, eyes fluttering. He wants to lay back and close them and just listen as Sam and Cas fight and bicker and moan but god, watching them is ten times better.
Sam is whispering something in Castiel’s ear, low enough so that Dean knows he’s talking but he can’t make out the words. Castiel’s eyes are closed and although he’s trying to keep Sam’s hand out of his pants and palm himself instead, he’s slowly losing the battle. Dean closes his eyes and bites his lip, imagining Castiel up against the wall like Sam had him a few months back, Sam’s lips on his chest as he slowly jerks the angel off, not speeding up until Cas is begging for it and Dean is sure that Cas begs so pretty, face all flushed and--
“Dean.” And they definitely noticed him. Castiel tightens his grip and roughly thumbs over Sam’s hip bones (his pants just a little bit lower due to the power struggle) and Sam runs a tongue over his bottom lip and when Sam says, “Come,” Dean does so, gasping as he works himself through it, the motions smooth now that his hand is covered with come.
“Bad, Dean,” Sam chides him as Dean lies back on the bed. Castiel finishes taking the rest of Dean’s clothes off as Sam slides up to cup Dean’s jaw in one hand, tilting Dean’s head to face him. “You knew I wouldn’t want you to touch yourself.” Dean shrugs and gives him the best small, devious smile he can manage and Sam grips Dean’s chin harder. “That one is for you. And now you owe Cas one since he came all this way to visit you, and, of course, you’ll come for me too since I’m being so nice to you tonight.” Dean gives a small noise at his words, canting his head up for a kiss. Sam clucks his tongue and slips two fingers inside Dean’s mouth instead. “No kissing me until you give Castiel his due.”
Dean manages a fair glare at his brother and then closes his eyes when Castiel starts licking up the oversensitive skin, cleaning Dean off. His hips buck upwards, but the movement is fruitless when Cas has both strong hands holding him against the bed. He grips Sam’s forearm, trying to say something but the words disappearing in his mouth, becoming only muted vibrations. “Your lips look so pretty around my fingers,” Sam murmurs, rubbing against Dean a little--denim rough on his thigh--which only serves to turn Dean on even more. Castiel’s tongue is swipes of hot wetness on Dean, and he hears Cas actually make a small, pleased purring sound when Dean starts to get hard again.
“We could make you come dry,” Sam leans over and whispers in Dean’s ear. “Refractory periods are nothing to us. We could make you come again and again and again and you would just be slumped between us as we fucked you.” Dean makes a noise that’s between a whimper and a growl. “Would you like that? Both of us inside you, rubbing against you, wearing you out?”
“Dammit, Sam,” Dean finally works out of his throat.
Sam just chuckles, kissing Dean’s neck and sucking a bruise into the skin. “I thought you would. I may have always had more ideas than you, Dean, but you are so willing to try them.”
“Sam,” Cas says, climbing up to the two brothers. They must know something Dean doesn’t, because Sam just grins and nods and gets up. Dean tries to look downwards to see what Sam’s up to, but Castiel just says, “No,” and then he’s kissing Dean, licking over his lips and into his mouth. Dean just gasps and grabs onto Cas’ hip, digging into the skin. Castiel hums agreement, and bites down on Dean’s lip hard enough to break the skin, making Dean’s hips jerk up in the air. And then Castiel is murmuring apologies into Dean’s mouth, healing his lip. His mouth goes around the curve of Dean’s jaw and then to his neck and down to his clavicle, biting softly at the thin skin. Dean cries out Castiel’s name, fingers pressing harder against his skin.
“No,” Castiel says again, and raises both of Dean’s arms, holding them above his head with one strong hand.
“Not fair, Cas,” Dean complains, and he’s about to go on when Castiel runs his tongue over one of Dean’s nipples and wraps his slim fingers of his other hand around Dean’s shaft, pumping slowly. Dean cries out and shakes his head as if to clear it, arms struggling under Castiel’s hold. Oh god, he needs to hold on to something.
Then he feels cold, slick fingers start working their way into him and Dean lets out a string of curses, face flushing. Sam licks Dean’s inner thigh as he pushes his fingers into Dean, grinning. “I shouldn’t even prep you,” Sam says, cold breath ghosting against Dean’s skin as Castiel sucks hard. “I should let you have that nice, rough burn. Teach you not to jack off without me.”
Sam leans up and licks the precome off the head of Dean’s cock as Castiel speeds up his motions just a little faster and Dean gives another cry at the cold tongue and the too-hot hands. He tries to lift his hips but Sam’s holding him down, letting his fingers open Dean up at a leisurely pace. When Cas licks and nips his way to the other side of Dean’s chest, Dean pretty much starts babbling, trying to force his hands free so he can get a hold of Castiel’s hair, pull it back up to his lips or down to his dick, anything other than drive him crazy like this.
But that’s when Castiel decides to quicken his pace and Sam presses on his prostate and Dean comes hard, back arching off the bed, hips pulsing upward as Cas slowly works Dean down, nuzzling against Dean’s neck.
“Two,” Sam says, his voice having just a little bit of an edge.
Dean shakes his head weakly. “Sam, I can’t--”
“One more for me,” Sam interrupts, and kisses Dean rough enough to bruise. Dean notices that somewhere along the way they took off their pants; probably Cas first when he was cleaning Dean, and Sam when he was getting the lube. At least, that’s what Dean figures. Like they really needed to take off pants when they could probably just magic them away. “And you can’t be rude, Dean, we’ve gotten you taken care of twice and now we need to be attended to.” Dean notices Castiel’s shallow breaths against Dean’s neck and the way Sam is biting his lip and he nods. Dean likes to play fair, but of course these assholes won’t give him a goddamn breather.
“Okay, okay, Sammy.” Sam’s eyes flutter when Dean uses the old nickname, and Dean weakly hoists himself up on his shoulders. Jesus, that last one was a doozy. Sam takes hold of his shoulders and helps him get to his knees. Dean holds onto Sam’s shoulders and looks at him. Sam actually kisses him gently this time and sucks on his lip before backing away.
“I want your pretty little lips around me, Dean,” and Sam’s thumb glides over Dean’s jaw. Dean’s a little tired, but sure, he’ll go for it. Sam brings himself up as Dean grasps him, letting his hand move a couple times before licking the sensitive skin, making Sam hiss and dig his fingers into Dean’s hair. “I said, around,” Sam growls, tugging on what little of Dean’s hair he can grasp (which is actually more than you might think).
Dean’s about to say he’s tired, but Castiel’s hand presses against the handprint on his shoulder and Dean’s eyes fly open, making him give a soft cry as a hot rush rambles through his body. “Around him, Dean,” he hears Cas say, and another warm hand slides down his back. Dean parts his lips and takes Sam in, who moans, “Fuck, Dean, yes,” and there’s strong fingers digging into his shoulders. As Cas gently runs his fingertips down Dean’s back and over his shoulder, Dean’s body begins to wake up again. Sam jerks when Dean sucks hard, and he can hear Sam say, “Your bruised, beautiful little lips around my cock,” and it’s Castiel he hears give a little whimper at that. “Harder,” Sam says, and the fact that Sam’s trembling means that he’s trying not to hurt Dean--even though he likes to play games, he never likes to hurt Dean when Dean doesn’t want to be hurt--by letting his hips move. Dean moans around him and suddenly Sam’s pushing him away, pulling him up to his mouth. Dean’s sure Sam can taste himself against Dean’s tongue and that’s probably why he is exploring Dean’s mouth like that.
“Not yet,” Sam says, and there’s a smirk in his voice. Then Dean feels Castiel line up behind him before warm lips meet the back of his neck.
“Cas,” and Dean feels Sam twitch at the sound of his voice all raw and fucked-out.
Castiel murmurs his name as he eases into Dean, biting down a moan on Dean’s shoulder, gripping hard on the handprint. Sam swallows Dean’s choked cry, feeling Sam’s cool hands on his hips as Castiel’s warm arm holds Dean upright. Castiel eases in slowly, and soon he’s brushing against Dean’s prostate, and his body is almost too hot against Dean’s back.
It isn’t until the first thrust Dean cries out his name and finds himself pushing back. Cas lets out this criminal sound and says, “Dean,” thrusting again right into that spot and Dean’s arching again as Sam pulls them together, lets their cocks slide together and Dean’s hands are scrambling for purchase, gripping onto Sam’s shoulders. It’s too, too much.
Sam’s rutting against him and their skin slides against each other and it’s messy and sticky and Dean moans and reaches for Sam, running his thumb over the head of Sam’s cock, letting himself grin as it slips on the precome sliding down and he hears this choked sound come from Sam’s throat. Cas is panting against his neck, thrusts getting a little erratic as he starts losing composure. When Dean says, “Harder, Cas,” the angel complies and soon he keeps hitting Dean in the right place over and over and over again. Sam’s fucking into his hand, telling Dean to keep going faster until Dean manages to cry out in a breathless voice, “Sammy,” and Sam’s fingers dig deep into his hips as he comes, biting down onto Dean’s shoulder, making Dean tense. Castiel whimpers as he thrusts one, two, three times into Dean before he grips down strong on Dean’s shoulders--on that goddamn handprint--and Dean shouts, feeling Cas bite down on the base of his neck as Cas comes.
That’s the last thing Dean remembers before feeling his own orgasm rip through him and he promptly blacks out.
When he comes to, everything’s cleaned up and he even has his jeans and a light t-shirt back on. Dean looks over, sees Castiel and Sam dressed. When Cas sees Dean watching them adjust their coats, the angel places a hand on Sam. “Finally awake, hmn?” Sam teases.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“You’re human, Dean, it’s only natural that you would be overwhelmed,” Cas reminds him. “We were very tough on you.”
“And he loved every second,” Sam reminds them, grinning. Dean bites the inside of his cheek. No, no, no bringing memories of it up right now.
Cas walks over to Dean as he says, “We’ve got to go.” Kind of hurts, still, when either of them says that. Because, oh yeah, Dean gets to stay on earth while his brother and his angel have to get back to work because, that’s right, they’re supernatural-big-wigs. Great. Awesome.
“We’ll be in touch,” Sam says, and as Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, Sam runs two fingers down his cheek and Dean can’t help but whimper at the hot and cold feeling. “You’re such a slut,” Sam says affectionately.
“You love it,” Dean murmurs.
Cas stands up and looks at Dean a little longer before he’s gone with a whisper of feathers. Sam scoffs. “See you later, Dean.”
Dean actually does say, “Wait, hold on a--” and before he can scramble to sit up, Sam’s gone. They always leave pretty quick. Demons to torture, souls to save, who can blame them?
Dean lays back on the bed and closes his eyes. Who knows how long he was out. Probably a little while. Goddamn bastards, those two. But he finds a grin coming to his face. Sam said who did Dean think he was, thinking he could own them? But he did. A puny little human with the Prince of Hell and the Sheriff of Heaven at his call. And the best part is that they are just as slutty for him as he is for them. And when he is there, they focus on him. Just on him. And that was fucking awesome.
Yeah, they fucking fight every chance they got. But if Dean could distract them like that, hell, he’d do it every time. He might not be able to move around with all these bruises on his hips on shoulders and he’s lucky it’s cold enough that he can button up his shirts to hide the hickeys, but it’s completely worth it.
Only next time, he would drive them nuts.
Title: Between Heaven and Hell
Author: lilchibibunny
Rating: NC-17 (PORN AGAIN, WHY DO I DO THIS)
Word Count: 4,406.
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Cas/Sam, hints to Sam/Dean, Dean/Cas, Cas/Sam.
Disclaimer: Characters to Kripke and the CW.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Oh wow. Um. Threesome, dirty talk, manhandled!Dean, multiple orgasms.
Summary: Sam's taken his rule in Hell and Cas has taken a prime spot in Heaven, leaving Dean alone on Earth. So they bicker when Dean happens to try and bring them together. Dean won't let them bicker tonight.
Author's Note: Written for the Dean/Cas/Sam Meme, this prompt: Castiel is the new Sheriff of Heaven. Sam has ended up as Prince of Hell. Dean is pissed that he's still a tiny human, but when they stop making the world all about politics and each other for more than five minutes and give him their full attention, he absolutely loves it, despite himself. My bb wanted it posted, so I guess I'm posting it so she will post her story because it is ten times better than this one.
Dean Winchester knows you never call the Devil ‘Old Scratch’. His brother told him so. And his brother...well, his brother would know.
The last time he tried to talk to Sam, Cas came down pretty fuckin’ quick and laid down the law about how Sam didn’t need to be all up in his brother’s space now that Sam had chosen to stay and rule Hell. And then Sam starts talk about how Dean doesn’t need Cas because Cas had chosen to stay and sheriff Heaven, and goddammit all they did was talk.
Dean prays and goes to the crossroads separately and he usually keeps it business related but sometimes he misses them.
There are differences now. They are different people now.
Sam runs a little colder now. Of course, when you get him worked up, he’s hot, but underneath the warm skin he’s a few degrees cooler. His mouth is always cool, which makes it kind of crazy when he’s running his tongue up and down skin. He’s always been kind of rough when it comes to sex, but now he knows the right blend between pleasure and pain and sometimes he likes to walk that edge if Hell’s been a little more difficult than usual. On those nights, he likes to make Dean beg and beg until he’s hoarse from talking and then he’ll let Dean come.
Castiel, however, is warm. Not hot--not at first--but in the beginning it’s a comforting warmth, like holding a mug in your hands when it’s cold outside. With Castiel, Cas is usually gentle but firm and set on what he wants. That means if he wants control this time and Dean’s being difficult, he will use that angel strength to hold Dean in place and let him know that he is going to take charge this time. And then Dean gets him worked up and his touch almost burns. He murmurs things in Dean’s ear, the weirdest, kindest bed talk that is kind of nice in that...weird way.
He calls them there together. They don’t come immediately, but Dean hasn’t called in a long time. (Having your sources in Heaven and Hell does work out in his favor every once in a while; the demons wouldn’t dare kill Dean now, and sometimes he’ll get divine intervention on a case.) He’s human, and he’s been busy. In fact, he’s still busy but being human means he’s also lonely. And the people he misses the most he just can’t call on a cell anymore. So he makes the demand at the crossroads, gets down on his knees afterward and prays, and then just walks back to the hotel room.
He waits.
Dean even pours himself a drink and he’s about to bring it to his lips when a hand comes around and touches the glass, turning it ice cold.
“And the devil, taking him up on a high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.” Dean lets him take the glass from his hand.
“Hi, Sam.”
“You called?” It’s not so much a question as a statement, and Dean shivers when he feels cold hands go under his shirts and wrap around his hips.
“Was hoping you weren’t busy.” Dean wants to say it nonchalantly, but it comes out more harsh and hateful. The reason Dean works so much now is because he doesn’t want to think about how his brother and his angel are now like giant superpowers and Dean? Dean is just a tiny little human now. He could have been something more, but then again he wouldn’t be Dean if he chose that, he would be Michael.
“Not for you. Never for you,” and Sam says it just to make Dean shiver when he puts his lips to Dean’s throat.
“So cold now, Sammy.”
Sam laughs against his skin. Even his breath is cold. “You’ll adjust. Warm me up.”
And suddenly there’s the sound of feathers and Dean looks over to Castiel. “Cas,” he says, and the smile on his face is almost sheepish.
“Dean,” Castiel says, and looks over to Sam. “Samuel.”
Dean forgets that Sam uses his grandfather’s full name for when he’s “on the job”; he told Dean that only he gets to say ‘Sam’ to him. (‘Sammy’ if he really wants something.) “Cas,” and Sam still insists with using the nickname. “How’s Heaven?”
“Struggling. But at least it’s stable.” Castiel looks to Dean. “I have not heard from you in a while, Dean. I was wondering if something was wrong.”
Before Dean can answer, Sam does it for him. “Nothing’s wrong. Now go fly back into your coop and get all your ducks in a row and leave me to my brother, Cas.”
“Dean called me here,” and Castiel’s voice is starting to get demanding now.
Sam’s hands are tight around Dean’s hips, holding him in place, but Dean still murmurs, “Cas,” and turns his arms so his palms are facing the angel. Hestitantly, Cas walks up and puts a warm hand to Dean’s face. When Dean follows the angel’s hand, Sam sneaks a cold hand up his back and makes Dean moan.
“He’s mine tonight.”
“That’s Dean’s decision, Sam,” and they both lock eyes. Castiel’s trenchcoat shivers in the back, and his wings are threatening to come out.
“Both,” Dean says and catches their attention. He may be one puny human, but he’s got the Prince of Hell and the Sheriff of Heaven watching his every move and, damn, that feels nice. “I want both of you.”
“You’ve always been a little kinky, Dean,” Sam chuckles and licks the back of Dean’s neck, making him arch a little from the cool tongue.
“Please,” Dean says, and he grabs Castiel’s suit jacket from underneath his coat, pulling him close. “Please, Cas.”
“Aww, c’mon, Cas,” Sam hisses against Dean’s ear, “it’ll be fun to take off your jacket and stay awhile.”
“Dean, this...Sam...” He takes Dean’s face in his hands, and Dean pushes into the touch. “This is not the Sam you used to know, and I’m not who you used to know. We are different.” He looks to Sam. “I’m not sure I can play the kind of games you are used to with him.”
Sam curls an arm around Dean’s middle, pulling him back from Castiel. “I don’t play games with my brother, Castiel.”
“You can’t help but play games with him, Samuel,” Castiel retorts, “it’s in your nature,” and this is exactly what Dean didn’t want. Whenever he tried to get them together in a neutral environment, they always started to fight. Dean understands that. He really does. But for fuck’s sake.
He grabs Castiel’s jacket again and pulls him forward until their noses are almost touching. When Sam gets ready to protest, Dean pushes back against him, earning a hiss from his brother. “Shut up. All I want is for you two to shut up and be with me for a little while. I haven’t seen either of you in a few months, and I’m fucking tired of having to dance around here so you two won’t fight.” He tugs on Castiel’s loose tie for emphasis. “This isn’t about your stupid little plans, this is about me, dammit. So shut up for two seconds about your work and fuck me already.”
He can feel Sam behind him, fingers twitching against Dean’s skin. And Castiel grabs his jaw roughly and says, “Shut up, Dean.” Dean opens his mouth to speak, and Cas must give a Sam a look because his hand is snaking his way up Dean’s chest, lifting his shirts up, and it’s like a cold breeze across his skin.
“Mine,” Sam snarls.
Dean’s never seen that look on Castiel’s face before, but suddenly arousal shoots down his spine and through his nerves and Dean moans, arching his back. “No, mine,” and Castiel has his hand lightly traced over the palm print burned onto Dean’s upper arm.
“Both of you are mine,” Dean corrects, gasping under the alternating temperatures of the hands on his chest and the hand on his arm, and they both look at him.
Sam smiles. “Oh, are we? Because you seem to be forgetting exactly who you’re talking to, Dean.” He looks to Castiel, who puts his hands on Dean’s hips momentarily while Sam lifts his shirts up and off, letting them drop to the floor.
“You’re still a human, Dean,” Castiel says softly. He runs his hands up Dean’s chest while Sam slides his down Dean’s sides and it’s really driving the human up the freaking wall.
Sam hooks his thumbs under the waistband of Dean’s jeans, kissing the base of his neck and letting his breath cool Dean’s skin as he says, “You’re just a human. What makes you think you can own us?”
Dean grabs Castiel’s arms and pulls him forward and hates how he has to chase Castiel’s lips and initiate the kiss. But once their lips meet, it’s Cas who pulls them flush together and makes Dean groan, Cas’ mouth hot and damp and Dean pushes against him because really, everyone has too many clothes on for his taste.
Suddenly, Dean feels his head being pulled back and Sam says, “No, no, I want to hear everything that comes out of his mouth.” Castiel instead kisses down Dean’s jaw, burning licks down his neck as Sam runs a cool finger up his spine and Dean cries out.
“For fuck’s sake, get a move on,” Dean says, grinding against Castiel. “Stop teasing.”
Sam laughs. “Yeah, Cas, stop teasing so much.” He untangles Cas’ hands from Dean and pushes the angel back; Dean forgets they are both much stronger than he is. And he gets that reminder when Sam pushes Dean on the bed and grabs Castiel. “Not yet,” he hisses, and Cas tilts his head back, letting out a groan, “let him suffer just a little.” Sam glances over to Dean as he basically rips the trenchcoat from Castiel’s shoulders. “You get up from that bed or try to rush me and it’s over.” He waits until Dean angrily shouts a yes and calls him a bitch before getting back to Castiel.
Sam works the tie over the white button-up. “I want you to keep this on,” he says.
Castiel scoffs. “You always did prefer my tie on rather than off.”
“It’s useful,” Sam says simply as he undoes the buttons, letting Castiel take off his suit jacket. “I won’t let you have him.”
Castiel hisses in a breath when Sam’s cold hands come in contact with his skin, pulling the shirt from its tucked-in place and shoving it off his shoulders. “I won’t let him rot in that hole.”
“Too bad he doesn’t like it up on the clouds, either,” Sam says, and leans over, biting the base of Castiel’s neck hard enough to draw blood. The angel growls--actually growls--and rips Sam’s shirt open. “I was nice enough to keep your shirt intact,” Sam reminds him, and now his voice is dangerously playful. It promises things Castiel isn’t sure he signed up for.
“You don’t care,” Castiel replies and Sam laughs.
“Never did care,” and he licks his way into Cas’ mouth and Dean swears he hears a small hissing of cold meeting hot. It’s angry, almost like a contest of who can make the worst sounds come out of who, and really Dean’s the winner.
He watches them and slowly pushes his pants and underwear out of the way, trying not to make a lot of noise as he jerks himself, eyes fluttering. He wants to lay back and close them and just listen as Sam and Cas fight and bicker and moan but god, watching them is ten times better.
Sam is whispering something in Castiel’s ear, low enough so that Dean knows he’s talking but he can’t make out the words. Castiel’s eyes are closed and although he’s trying to keep Sam’s hand out of his pants and palm himself instead, he’s slowly losing the battle. Dean closes his eyes and bites his lip, imagining Castiel up against the wall like Sam had him a few months back, Sam’s lips on his chest as he slowly jerks the angel off, not speeding up until Cas is begging for it and Dean is sure that Cas begs so pretty, face all flushed and--
“Dean.” And they definitely noticed him. Castiel tightens his grip and roughly thumbs over Sam’s hip bones (his pants just a little bit lower due to the power struggle) and Sam runs a tongue over his bottom lip and when Sam says, “Come,” Dean does so, gasping as he works himself through it, the motions smooth now that his hand is covered with come.
“Bad, Dean,” Sam chides him as Dean lies back on the bed. Castiel finishes taking the rest of Dean’s clothes off as Sam slides up to cup Dean’s jaw in one hand, tilting Dean’s head to face him. “You knew I wouldn’t want you to touch yourself.” Dean shrugs and gives him the best small, devious smile he can manage and Sam grips Dean’s chin harder. “That one is for you. And now you owe Cas one since he came all this way to visit you, and, of course, you’ll come for me too since I’m being so nice to you tonight.” Dean gives a small noise at his words, canting his head up for a kiss. Sam clucks his tongue and slips two fingers inside Dean’s mouth instead. “No kissing me until you give Castiel his due.”
Dean manages a fair glare at his brother and then closes his eyes when Castiel starts licking up the oversensitive skin, cleaning Dean off. His hips buck upwards, but the movement is fruitless when Cas has both strong hands holding him against the bed. He grips Sam’s forearm, trying to say something but the words disappearing in his mouth, becoming only muted vibrations. “Your lips look so pretty around my fingers,” Sam murmurs, rubbing against Dean a little--denim rough on his thigh--which only serves to turn Dean on even more. Castiel’s tongue is swipes of hot wetness on Dean, and he hears Cas actually make a small, pleased purring sound when Dean starts to get hard again.
“We could make you come dry,” Sam leans over and whispers in Dean’s ear. “Refractory periods are nothing to us. We could make you come again and again and again and you would just be slumped between us as we fucked you.” Dean makes a noise that’s between a whimper and a growl. “Would you like that? Both of us inside you, rubbing against you, wearing you out?”
“Dammit, Sam,” Dean finally works out of his throat.
Sam just chuckles, kissing Dean’s neck and sucking a bruise into the skin. “I thought you would. I may have always had more ideas than you, Dean, but you are so willing to try them.”
“Sam,” Cas says, climbing up to the two brothers. They must know something Dean doesn’t, because Sam just grins and nods and gets up. Dean tries to look downwards to see what Sam’s up to, but Castiel just says, “No,” and then he’s kissing Dean, licking over his lips and into his mouth. Dean just gasps and grabs onto Cas’ hip, digging into the skin. Castiel hums agreement, and bites down on Dean’s lip hard enough to break the skin, making Dean’s hips jerk up in the air. And then Castiel is murmuring apologies into Dean’s mouth, healing his lip. His mouth goes around the curve of Dean’s jaw and then to his neck and down to his clavicle, biting softly at the thin skin. Dean cries out Castiel’s name, fingers pressing harder against his skin.
“No,” Castiel says again, and raises both of Dean’s arms, holding them above his head with one strong hand.
“Not fair, Cas,” Dean complains, and he’s about to go on when Castiel runs his tongue over one of Dean’s nipples and wraps his slim fingers of his other hand around Dean’s shaft, pumping slowly. Dean cries out and shakes his head as if to clear it, arms struggling under Castiel’s hold. Oh god, he needs to hold on to something.
Then he feels cold, slick fingers start working their way into him and Dean lets out a string of curses, face flushing. Sam licks Dean’s inner thigh as he pushes his fingers into Dean, grinning. “I shouldn’t even prep you,” Sam says, cold breath ghosting against Dean’s skin as Castiel sucks hard. “I should let you have that nice, rough burn. Teach you not to jack off without me.”
Sam leans up and licks the precome off the head of Dean’s cock as Castiel speeds up his motions just a little faster and Dean gives another cry at the cold tongue and the too-hot hands. He tries to lift his hips but Sam’s holding him down, letting his fingers open Dean up at a leisurely pace. When Cas licks and nips his way to the other side of Dean’s chest, Dean pretty much starts babbling, trying to force his hands free so he can get a hold of Castiel’s hair, pull it back up to his lips or down to his dick, anything other than drive him crazy like this.
But that’s when Castiel decides to quicken his pace and Sam presses on his prostate and Dean comes hard, back arching off the bed, hips pulsing upward as Cas slowly works Dean down, nuzzling against Dean’s neck.
“Two,” Sam says, his voice having just a little bit of an edge.
Dean shakes his head weakly. “Sam, I can’t--”
“One more for me,” Sam interrupts, and kisses Dean rough enough to bruise. Dean notices that somewhere along the way they took off their pants; probably Cas first when he was cleaning Dean, and Sam when he was getting the lube. At least, that’s what Dean figures. Like they really needed to take off pants when they could probably just magic them away. “And you can’t be rude, Dean, we’ve gotten you taken care of twice and now we need to be attended to.” Dean notices Castiel’s shallow breaths against Dean’s neck and the way Sam is biting his lip and he nods. Dean likes to play fair, but of course these assholes won’t give him a goddamn breather.
“Okay, okay, Sammy.” Sam’s eyes flutter when Dean uses the old nickname, and Dean weakly hoists himself up on his shoulders. Jesus, that last one was a doozy. Sam takes hold of his shoulders and helps him get to his knees. Dean holds onto Sam’s shoulders and looks at him. Sam actually kisses him gently this time and sucks on his lip before backing away.
“I want your pretty little lips around me, Dean,” and Sam’s thumb glides over Dean’s jaw. Dean’s a little tired, but sure, he’ll go for it. Sam brings himself up as Dean grasps him, letting his hand move a couple times before licking the sensitive skin, making Sam hiss and dig his fingers into Dean’s hair. “I said, around,” Sam growls, tugging on what little of Dean’s hair he can grasp (which is actually more than you might think).
Dean’s about to say he’s tired, but Castiel’s hand presses against the handprint on his shoulder and Dean’s eyes fly open, making him give a soft cry as a hot rush rambles through his body. “Around him, Dean,” he hears Cas say, and another warm hand slides down his back. Dean parts his lips and takes Sam in, who moans, “Fuck, Dean, yes,” and there’s strong fingers digging into his shoulders. As Cas gently runs his fingertips down Dean’s back and over his shoulder, Dean’s body begins to wake up again. Sam jerks when Dean sucks hard, and he can hear Sam say, “Your bruised, beautiful little lips around my cock,” and it’s Castiel he hears give a little whimper at that. “Harder,” Sam says, and the fact that Sam’s trembling means that he’s trying not to hurt Dean--even though he likes to play games, he never likes to hurt Dean when Dean doesn’t want to be hurt--by letting his hips move. Dean moans around him and suddenly Sam’s pushing him away, pulling him up to his mouth. Dean’s sure Sam can taste himself against Dean’s tongue and that’s probably why he is exploring Dean’s mouth like that.
“Not yet,” Sam says, and there’s a smirk in his voice. Then Dean feels Castiel line up behind him before warm lips meet the back of his neck.
“Cas,” and Dean feels Sam twitch at the sound of his voice all raw and fucked-out.
Castiel murmurs his name as he eases into Dean, biting down a moan on Dean’s shoulder, gripping hard on the handprint. Sam swallows Dean’s choked cry, feeling Sam’s cool hands on his hips as Castiel’s warm arm holds Dean upright. Castiel eases in slowly, and soon he’s brushing against Dean’s prostate, and his body is almost too hot against Dean’s back.
It isn’t until the first thrust Dean cries out his name and finds himself pushing back. Cas lets out this criminal sound and says, “Dean,” thrusting again right into that spot and Dean’s arching again as Sam pulls them together, lets their cocks slide together and Dean’s hands are scrambling for purchase, gripping onto Sam’s shoulders. It’s too, too much.
Sam’s rutting against him and their skin slides against each other and it’s messy and sticky and Dean moans and reaches for Sam, running his thumb over the head of Sam’s cock, letting himself grin as it slips on the precome sliding down and he hears this choked sound come from Sam’s throat. Cas is panting against his neck, thrusts getting a little erratic as he starts losing composure. When Dean says, “Harder, Cas,” the angel complies and soon he keeps hitting Dean in the right place over and over and over again. Sam’s fucking into his hand, telling Dean to keep going faster until Dean manages to cry out in a breathless voice, “Sammy,” and Sam’s fingers dig deep into his hips as he comes, biting down onto Dean’s shoulder, making Dean tense. Castiel whimpers as he thrusts one, two, three times into Dean before he grips down strong on Dean’s shoulders--on that goddamn handprint--and Dean shouts, feeling Cas bite down on the base of his neck as Cas comes.
That’s the last thing Dean remembers before feeling his own orgasm rip through him and he promptly blacks out.
When he comes to, everything’s cleaned up and he even has his jeans and a light t-shirt back on. Dean looks over, sees Castiel and Sam dressed. When Cas sees Dean watching them adjust their coats, the angel places a hand on Sam. “Finally awake, hmn?” Sam teases.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“You’re human, Dean, it’s only natural that you would be overwhelmed,” Cas reminds him. “We were very tough on you.”
“And he loved every second,” Sam reminds them, grinning. Dean bites the inside of his cheek. No, no, no bringing memories of it up right now.
Cas walks over to Dean as he says, “We’ve got to go.” Kind of hurts, still, when either of them says that. Because, oh yeah, Dean gets to stay on earth while his brother and his angel have to get back to work because, that’s right, they’re supernatural-big-wigs. Great. Awesome.
“We’ll be in touch,” Sam says, and as Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, Sam runs two fingers down his cheek and Dean can’t help but whimper at the hot and cold feeling. “You’re such a slut,” Sam says affectionately.
“You love it,” Dean murmurs.
Cas stands up and looks at Dean a little longer before he’s gone with a whisper of feathers. Sam scoffs. “See you later, Dean.”
Dean actually does say, “Wait, hold on a--” and before he can scramble to sit up, Sam’s gone. They always leave pretty quick. Demons to torture, souls to save, who can blame them?
Dean lays back on the bed and closes his eyes. Who knows how long he was out. Probably a little while. Goddamn bastards, those two. But he finds a grin coming to his face. Sam said who did Dean think he was, thinking he could own them? But he did. A puny little human with the Prince of Hell and the Sheriff of Heaven at his call. And the best part is that they are just as slutty for him as he is for them. And when he is there, they focus on him. Just on him. And that was fucking awesome.
Yeah, they fucking fight every chance they got. But if Dean could distract them like that, hell, he’d do it every time. He might not be able to move around with all these bruises on his hips on shoulders and he’s lucky it’s cold enough that he can button up his shirts to hide the hickeys, but it’s completely worth it.
Only next time, he would drive them nuts.