Crowley is still going over events in his head, trying to figure out exactly how things ended up like this, so he can make sure to do it again. He'd been in Dean's room, waiting for the hunter to return from his expedition -- yes, he could have just popped in on him as he often did, but he found it amusing, the way it was almost domestic, waiting
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But he doesn't. Instead, he shifts so he's suddenly behind Dean, hands smoothing over the man's shoulders.
"I made you pie."
He'd been intending to impress him, make him take back every disbelieving comment he'd made about Crowley's baking. But he supposes it works as a calming gesture, as well. He's jealous. And the sick part is that there's part of Crowley that wants Dean jealous over him, not just because of his repressed feelings about the angel that wasn't his boyfriend.
He can feel Cas watching, a weighty gaze that shifts between them. It's as if the angel can't decide which of them is more worthy of attention, he's taking in the way that Crowley presses up against the Hunter.
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Okay, so he might like Crowley a little bit more than he thought he did.
"It's good," Dean murmurs, taking another bite. "Thanks." The words are soft and muttered and after a few moments he relaxes a little and pretends he's not leaning back into the warmth of the demon's chest at his back.
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Almost as awkward as the way that Castiel is looking at them, sharp and intent and like this all means something to him and Crowley isn't sure that he likes it. Or maybe he does. He liked that kiss, odd feelings for Dean aside. He liked the intensity, the surprising strength in his hands and the way he held him there.
But he's not thinking about that. Really.
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He finally speaks, gaze still flitting between them, between how Crowley presses in close, how Dean relaxes into the demon, and it fits pieces of understanding together. They're... involved. That is strange but interesting, and Cas doesn't know where this place is, but he nods slowly in quiet understanding, and he's moving closer, standing too close like he always does but hasn't done in a while.
He does not often have time for pleasure, hasn't indulged in it outside the slide of his own fingers, digging through memories of his vessel, the whisper of a voice he'd buried deep; trying to protect him. Pornography had been an interesting discovery, had awoken some of his body's baser urges. That spark that flits over nerves like when he'd kissed Meg, but that had been better, and he wonders, wants more. His head has been a little cloudy since he arrived in the strange room with the incense and the naked dancers.
He shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts.
"I am.. uncertain exactly where I am."
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"Short version? We're stuck in a hotel that makes people have sex sometimes and no there is no convievable way out, we've tried. I've tried for months before now. That's right months. So might as well make yourself cozy, Cas," he says, shrugging a little. He still looks, every now and then, for a way out, but otherwise he doesn't bother too much with it. He's been here almost nine months now.
Dean then cuts himself another piece of pie.
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"You're having sex with Crowley."
Because that is clearly the most important subject here. Castiel isn't jealous, he isn't possessive, not like that, but there's a sharp flicker to his tone because he wants that too. He wants to touch the demon makes infuriatingly suggestive comments, that he's had pinned against walls time and again and never touched because it might break the only upper hand he has. He... he's not sure what he wants from Dean. He wants to apologize, but he doesn't think this Dean even knows his crimes.
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Besides, Dean's too tainted with Hell to be any good for Cas. He supposes it's ironic that he's been fucking Crowley, a demon. Dean isn't good enough for Cas, would never be good enough. Cas is too pure and holy for someone as soul-stained as him. Someone who's made so many mistakes in his life. Cas deserves so much more than that. And it hurts to know that it's not him. But hey, it's nothing he's not used to, right? His whole life has been nothing but giving up things he wants for other people's happiness.
"I fuck a lot of people, Cas. Kinda the point of this place. Fuck enough peope and maybe they'll let you go."
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Maybe it's the way he feels a little bit strangely warm, maybe it's the fact that it's not from his timeline. Its not his Dean who hates him, Dean who he's wronged in so, so many ways. It's all for him, but he doesn't expect Dean to understand that. Because Dean can't fathom defeat, can't fathom an enemy too big to fight, and so he will gladly let him hate him, because he knows his brother, knows they would be dead in their bed, locked away so deep in Heaven Castiel couldn't get to them if they tried to stop Raphael. Everything is always for Dean, even when he hurts him.
He shifts, looks into Dean's green eyes with his intense blues, a vague feeling that he should be saying something, but he's not sure what, and so he just stands there looking awkward. Interested, but half assured he can't have it. It doesn't change the truth of his words, however.
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But him? He's just... a human. A puny, normal human compared to these all powerful beings. And Cas was an angel at that. Demons, okay it was kind of expected, because demons. But angels? That's, no. Cas couldn't mean him. Cas was too good for him. He'd gone to hell, slaughtered innocent souls and started the goddamn Apocalypse. How could Cas ever see anything good in him let alone want to taint himself by touching him?
"... Excuse me?"
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Cas' brow furrowed and his head tilted to the side as if he couldn't quite put together what he was saying wrong. Was this wrong? Was Dean upset again, like when he'd kissed Crowley? Human sentiments were still hard to navigate, even if he'd learned more, learned about deception and betrayal. He sighed, reaching out, pressing a hand to Crowley's side, and his other to Dean's chest. Words never seemed to work so well anyway.
He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to get what he wanted, and really, being pushed away was the most likely response. But, there was that warmth, that hunger that was itching subtly at him, pushing at him to try and take this. Trapped here; maybe he could pretend that he hadn't fallen so far.
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"Still jealous, darling?"
Crowley teased with a smile, a spark of desire in his eyes as he shifted, moving so he wasn't pressed up behind Dean, because he was interested in this proposition. At least in the physical, tactile sense. He was a demon, after all, and as Dean frequently pointed out, something of a slut, even if a slut with taste. He didn't think Dean really wanted to turn this down anyway. He licked his lips, looked at Dean with an arched eyebrow.
The strange thing here, was the fact that whether or not Dean was interested made a sickening amount of difference in whether he wanted to go through with this or not. Stupid human feelings.
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Hell yeah he wanted this.
Then Dean pulled away, teeth biting at Cas' lower lip, tugging gently before he switched tactics and leaned in to take Crowley's lips in a kiss as well, hand sliding from the demon's hip to around his waist as he pulled him in flush against his side, tongue fucking Crowley's mouth in a way it could be seen, viewable if anyone, say an angel, were watching.
When he pulled back he was panting, already more than half hard in his jeans and flush with feverish arousal. It hadn't even dawned on him that he might be drugged.
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Castiel watched with rapt attention as Dean kissed Crowley, tongue fucking his mouth so that he could see, and it just made him feel hotter, made him want them more. His hand on the demon's hip tightening a little, fingertips rubbing through fabric. Cas didn't know how the hotel worked well enough to even suspect what was going on here, what the incense was, likely exacerbated by the apple pie on the demon's lips when he'd missed him that first time.
When the hunter pulled back, Cas couldn't resist kissing Crowley again, hard, forceful, pushing his body back against Dean. The angel's hands shifting so they settled against Dean, briefly trapping the demon between them.
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Then he dropped his hands to around Crowley's waist, one hand going to undo his belt and slacks while the other palmed his cock through them, and with Cas being close enough now that he had the demon pressed against him, the back of his hand rubbed against Cas' groin as well, able to feel the hardening bulge that and that just got him off even more, that Cas was hard because of them, or maybe something else in the hotel
Regardless of how it only served to turn Dean on even more, as he thrust against Crowley's firm ass, grinding his dick against the demon and moaning low in his ear.
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Crowley is shoving Cas' coats off, and those pool on the floor. One hand looped in the angel's tie as the other is expertly unfasting the buttons of his dress shirt. Crowley finds himself more ravenous for skin than usual, already hard, a low moan as Dean is undoing his pants, touching his cock. He watches the way that Castiel shivers as Dean's hand rubs at him through the proximity, how they're all so close, but not close enough.
He's rubbing his ass back against Dean's cock, trying to squirm out of his pants, and at the same time get the angel's shirt off. He wants so much, and there's too many clothes, when all he wants is to feel skin on skin. He grins wickedly when he notices how Cas is rubbing into Dean's hand. He'd never really thought of him as a sexual creature before and oh, how glad he is to change his mind.
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Dean turns his hand and begins rubbing against Cas too, palming the hard line of his cock through his slacks as he thrusts and grinds against Crowley's ass. When he's got the shirt unbuttoned he tugs it off and tosses it up with the jacket on the counter, having heard one too many times already the demon bitching about his lack of care for his fine attire.
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