Chapter Text
“And is it worth the wait
All this killing time?
Are you strong enough to stand
Protecting both your hearts and mine?
Who is the betrayer?
Who's the killer in the crowd?
The one who creeps in corridors
And doesn't make a sound
My love has concrete feet
My love's an iron ball
Wrapped around your ankles
Over the waterfall.”
Dean and Sam had just finished emptying the contents of the trunk in the weapons’ room of the Batcave, as Dean had so eloquently dubbed it, with the rest of weapons that had come with the building. They were done. They’d given up hunting. Both of them deciding that the mission that been bestowed upon them as children was never going to be done. Monsters were like people. Hell, monsters could be people. So what was the point in risking their lives to stop one and not the other? They could destroy every demon, vampire, and all the other things that went bump in the night that they came across and it still wouldn’t save the world.
It was ironic. The Bunker, built by the Men of Letters for the sole purpose of saving the world, had everything they needed and more to become even better hunters but Sam, Dean, and Castiel had decided to remodel and make it a home. Sam and Dean had been living at the Bunker for a few months now, taking the occasional hunt before deciding to call it quits a couple of weeks ago.
They were settling down in every sense of the word; Sam and Dean had gone into town a couple of weeks ago –with their real names– and for the first time allowed the civilians to engage in useless chit-chat with them. Because that’s what normal people did. They non-verbally established roots as…whatever they were. Lovers, boyfriends, partners. Sam and Dean had long ago stopped trying to label what they had especially when Castiel had come into the mix. They had decided not to put too much emphasis on what they were in public just in case Castiel had ever decided to get his head out of his ass and come back. Fat chance since he had yet to answer their calls. Of course, it wasn’t unlike the angel not to answer their call on a good day, but things were…different.
It had all started with Sam deciding to go away for the weekend.
_____
Dean stepped out of the shower, surrounded by a cloud of steam. He wrapped a towel around a waist, ready to shave and gel his hair. Sam was no doubt starting to finish working out downstairs.
Dean felt and heard a flutter of wind and smirked to himself. He didn’t even bother to turn, continuing to mix his lather. “Nice of you to drop in.” Dean leaned forward, covering his cheeks and chin with the cream.
“The way you say that always makes it sound like some sort of joke that I am not understanding. Is it?”
Dean couldn’t help the grin that stretched over his lips. “Maybe.” Dean opened his blade before running it under the hot water, looking over his shoulder. Castiel had recently started to change his clothes. While Dean and Sam were happy to see Castiel straying from his trench coat, suit, and blue tie they agreed amongst themselves that they wouldn’t mention Castiel’s choice in attire unless he asked.
It was warm today. Castiel forewent a coat altogether and opted for simple navy-blue polo tucked into cropped denim pants, and what looked to Dean like some boat shoe sneaker hybrid. He looked damn good. He looked comfortable. Human.
Castiel noticed Dean's staring and looked down. “I saw it in an ad at a store. I was trying something new. Do you like it?”
Dean shrugged and winked, before turning back to the mirror. “You know me Cas, I prefer you naked.” Before Castiel could reply, Sam's jogged gait hit the stairs and a moment later he was in the room.
He barged into the bathroom, shirt, shoes and socks already off, rant halfway through. “If you used all the hot water again, Dean, I’m gonna put you on a dry spell so long you’ll–. Oh, hey, Cas.” Sam cut himself off without missing a beat and kissed Castiel on the cheek. “You look nice. You coming with us today?” Sam asked as he turned the shower on.
“Where are you going?”
Dean rolled his eyes as he finished his last stroke. Cold towel at the ready. “Sam wanted to get out of town for a bit. Only reason I’m going is he promised me a steak dinner.”
Sam threw his brother an unimpressed look as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Really? The only reason?”
Dean pointedly looked at Sam’s crotch, “Among other things.”
Sam threw his shorts at his face before stepping in the shower. Dean stepped into the bedroom to get dressed. Dean set his clothes out in silence, a faded tee that somehow managed to fit both him and Sam perfectly, jeans, and a pair of Chuck's. He pulled on his underwear and socks before falling back on the bed as Castiel sat in the armchair in the corner. Strange.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Castiel asked, breaking the silence. He continued when Dean furrowed his brow in confusion. “That you were going on a trip.”
Dean turned to Castiel and opened his mouth only to close it again. “Uh, I don’t know, Cas…you haven’t really been keeping in touch. I mean, we tell you when we’re going on a hunt.”
“That’s different. That’s a potential danger, potential help I could provide. Did you think I wouldn’t want to come?”
Dean shrugged. He was trying to figure out if this was a fight or not. “I guess we just thought you wouldn’t want to, that you were busy, maybe.”
Castiel stood, shaking his head. He was getting frustrated. “That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you and Sam?”
Dean sat up. Okay, a fight it was. “Well, no offense, Cas, and I can’t speak for Sam but I thought if you really wanted to spend time with us you would stop by more than once every two weeks or just lived here. I mean it’s not like you invite me and Sam to whatever it is you do when you’re not here.”
Castiel blinked before deflating. “That’s because I don’t do anything. I…wait. I wait until…I wanted to. I wanted to stay on every occasion. I just never wanted to overstay my welcome.”
“Overstay your welcome?” Dean scoffed. “Jesus, Cas, you’re not some dinner guest you’re our...” Dean couldn’t come up with a proper term quick enough. “Ours.”
Castiel closed the distance between them, his chest to Dean's face. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, Castiel laced his fingers at the base of Dean's skull. “I’m not gonna lie and say that Sam and I never get sick of each other but even when we spend time apart...we’re together…that didn’t make any sense. I mean–.”
“I understand.” Dean leaned forward, waiting patiently for Castiel to come the rest of the way. Castiel’s thumb pulled at Dean's chin as he did. Dean pulled Castiel closer, leaning back as Castiel let himself be manipulated into Dean’s lap.
Castiel untucked his shirt, sighing at Dean's warm hands at his back. Dean bit at Castiel’s lips twice before moving onto his neck. Castiel threw his head back, the flesh of his neck pairing nicely with Dean’s freshly shaved skin.
Castiel swallowed. “Sam’s coming out the shower.”
Dean said nothing at first, his kisses turned into love bites as he took Castiel's hand in his own. “Good. He’ll be jealous.” The bathroom door opened, and Dean barely acknowledged it, his mouth finding its way back to Castiel’s.
“Y’all are insatiable.” Sam scoffed as he got dressed.
Dean pulled away from Castiel and smirked at his pout. “Cas here was sad that we didn’t invite him on our trip,” He teased, “said he didn't want to overstay his welcome.”
Sam scoffed, his hand skating through Castiel’s hair. “Jesus, Cas, you're not some guest.”
“That's what I told him.” Dean blinked as if just realizing Sam was dressed. “What, you’re not…”
“Nope. We gotta go.” Sam stood up and walked out, shutting it behind him, leaving Dean and Castiel dumbfounded. Not a second later he popped his head back in. “Did I forget to mention I got a hotel?”
***
The day that had started off rocky went on swimmingly to say the least. Sam packed water and snacks and books for the ride while Castiel and Dean packed clothes. They loaded the car all of them smiling to themselves. Sam and Dean fought over who got to drive first even though both of them knew that Sam was going to give in. Castiel offered to drive much to Sam and Dean’s surprise. He sensed their hesitation and quickly backtracked only for them both to placate him with a kiss on the cheek and promises of driving lessons.
Dean got into the driver’s seat while Sam and Castiel slid in beside him. Sam was too quick and beat Dean to sliding a cassette into the stereo. Dean mumbled something about hippie music and Sam rolled his eyes, knowing that in just a few minutes Dean would be tapping his fingers to the beat. They updated Castiel on their recent hunts and Castiel told them about his recent adventures.
The conversation came to a natural stop and a comfortable silence took over the car. Castiel sighed and settled deeper into the seat, his eyes falling shut and his head resting on Sam’s shoulder. He took a deep breath and when Sam moved his arm to the back of the seat settled his face in his neck.
Dean waited a solid thirty minutes before talking. “So you’re really moving in with us.”
Castiel nodded. “Yes, Dean.”
“You might get bored; Sam and I sleep a lot.”
Castiel smiled to himself. “I doubt it will be so different from the sleep you both do after we have sex. I have ways of keeping myself occupied.”
“Like?” Sam asked, squinting his eyes at the midday sun before reaching in the glove compartment for sunglasses. He passed Dean his pair.
Castiel shrugged as he waited for Sam to get back into position. “I watch you both sleep.”
“You watch us sleep?” Dean asked, donning his shades and putting his visor up.
“Yes. It’s very soothing.”
“Jesus. For how long?”
Castiel shrugged again. “For however long you sleep.”
Dean side-eyed Castiel, before changing lanes. “So who snores the loudest?”
Castiel opened his eyes and sat up. “Neither of you snore per se. You both just breathe a bit heavier in your sleep, sighing at times when you change position.” Castiel paused for just a moment. “You breathe together. In and out, completely in sync.”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other, wondering what to do with this new information, both of them deciding wordlessly that it was nothing.
Castiel reached for the box of tapes and began to look through them, his hands gentle as if they were precious. “You both talk, too. Dean more than Sam but not by much.”
“I do not talk in my sleep,” Dean stated oh-so-matter-of-factly.
Castiel cocked his head to the side. “How would you know? You would be asleep.”
Sam laughed. Dean wanted to smack him. “It’s not all bad. Dean says mostly my and Sam’s names, sings or hums, calls for his mother or Bobby. Sam smiles and laughs in his sleep or says ‘no’ like he’s arguing with someone, humming occasionally like he’s thinking. If I had to guess I think you read books even in your sleep, Sam.”
Sam tilted his head in thought. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“You said it’s not all bad. What did you mean?” The soft smile that stretched across Castiel’s face shriveled up and died. Castiel increased his tape search tenfold. “Who is rio speed way? Are they good? I suppose they are since you have them in your collection…”
“Don’t change the subject, Cas. Tell us.”
“Not us, Dean. You. I am perfectly fine without knowing.”
“How could you possibly be fine without knowing?”
Sam rolled his eyes but doubted anyone saw behind his shades. “I just am. Castiel told us the good parts, I am content with leaving it there. Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re not. It’s as if you want to be sad, Dean.”
Dean said nothing for a moment. “Fuck you, Sam.” Came out quiet as a breath and it was worse than if he had yelled it. Dean didn’t speak for miles until he got in an exit lane only going as far as to mutter, “Gas.”
They all got out to stretch. Sam couldn’t take the silence and went inside the convenience store. Castiel hesitated for just a moment before getting the feeling that Dean wanted to be alone. He followed after Sam who he found perusing the candy. “What do you usually do when he gets like this?” Castiel asked bluntly.
Sam sighed, not bothering to look away from the brightly colored packages that riddled the shelves. “Buy him candy or pie, put on his favorite music without him asking, and when that doesn’t work…sex.” Sam stood up from his crouch, pulling a bag of peanut M&M’s off the shelf. Castiel took the bag from him. “Why not all three?”
Dean had pulled away from the gas pump and parked in front of the store, standing guard almost by the ice case. He was talking to a woman. Or rather a woman was talking to him. Judging from his folded arms and the fake smile on his face he wanted nothing more than to tell her to beat it.
Sam and Castiel watched as Dean politely dodged her hands and advances. She must have got the hint and said something that made Dean bristle. The woman laughed and leaned in, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. If the plastic bag in Sam’s hand had been rocks, it would have been dust. “Let him handle it, Sam.” Dean all but ignored her, turning his head towards the gas pumps, until she got the hint and walked away.
Castiel and Sam made their way over to him and if Sam tripped the woman as they passed no one mentioned it. Castiel reached for Dean but Dean pulled away, not looking at either of them. “Let’s head out.” He said getting in the car with a quickness.
“So much for making him feel better,” Sam muttered.
It was about forty miles before Dean spoke. “She called me a faggot.” He said quietly. Anger was easy to hear in his voice but so was the hurt. “I’ve never been called that before.”
Sam and Castiel were quiet for a moment both in their own versions of anger. “I should have smitten her,” Castiel said. Sam and Dean looked at Castiel in surprise. “What? I can’t be angry?”
“No, you can…” Dean shrugged; the smallest of smiles burgeoning. “It’s cute.”
Castiel reached down to the floor and pulled out their long-forgotten bag. “We bought you M&Ms.”
Dean’s smile grew. “Thanks.” Castiel opened the bag and pulled a red one out and ate it. “Sam said the red ones were bad.”
Dean snorted. “Did he now? Funny, I told him that when he was like six to scare him.”
The one Castiel took out next was brown. He ate that one too but this time kissed Sam, open-mouthed and pushed the candy onto his tongue. Castiel sat back and pulled another M&M out, this time blue. He fed it to Dean.
“What did you say to her?” Sam asked.
Dean side-eyed his brother but covered it up by switching lanes again. “I didn’t say anything.”
Sam cracked open a bottle of water. “Really?”
Dean made eye contact. “No.” Castiel fed him two more M&M’s.
“How far are we?” Castiel asked.
“About two hours, why?”
“I want to have sex,” Castiel said matter-of-factly.
Sam spit out his water and Dean lurched the car with a tap on the brakes before accelerating again. “Jesus, we gotta teach you subtlety.”
“I thought I was being subtle.”
“You…no. Sam?”
Sam’s mouth fell open. “What? Me?”
“Yeah, I’m a little busy.” Dean made an all-encompassing gesture to the steering wheel and the road.
Sam rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded not unlike 'coward'. “Um, yeah. So Cas, it’s, you don’t have to say you want sex in so many words. It’s a feeling. You can do other things to tell us.”
“Like what?”
Sam balked. “Um.” Sam caught himself starting to explain. Sam put his back to the door and faced Castiel. He followed his own advice and slid a hand down Castiel’s inner thigh. “You can touch us. Here, for example.” Sam slid his hand up further, letting his thumb touch the zipper of Castiel’s pants. “Or here.” Sam glided his hand even higher, past Castiel’s waistband and just under, until his hand was around Castiel’s cock. “Or here.”
Castiel’s body immediately tensed. “Sam…”
Sam kissed at Castiel’s neck, mouthing at the spot just below his ear as his hand focused on the head of Castiel’s cock. “Is this what you wanted?”
To Sam’s surprise, Castiel shook his head. “No. I wanted. I wanted you in my mouth.”
“Oh, yeah? You wanted to suck me off?”
Castiel nodded, eyes hooded as he watched Sam lift his shirt and bite at his chest, leaving red marks. “Fuck…”
Sam moaned, pulling Castiel closer until he was nearly in his lap and they were facing Dean as much as possible No one had noticed Dean had switched to the right lane the moment Sam had said 'um'. “Dean wants to touch you so bad right now. Don’t you, Dean?” Dean nodded, and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Tell me. Tell Cas what you’d do to him.”
“Fuck, Sam.” Dean had to take a moment. Align his thoughts, split his mind; keep them from crashing while putting his all into what was happening next to him.
“I’d put my hand around his throat and squeeze.” Sam did exactly that and it took all of Dean not to come just from the sheer obedience. “Bite at his ear. Not too hard. I’d talk to him. Tell him all things I want to do. Let him use my fist any way he wants.” Sam followed Dean’s instructions to the letter and Dean had never been more thankful of the Impala’s acoustics. He heard every word Sam said.
“That’s right fuck my fist. Fuck, you look so fucking hot, Castiel. I can’t wait to see your mouth wrapped around my cock. You didn’t think I forgot, did you? I want you to do whatever you want to me after you come. Anything you want. Please. I love it when you take me, making Dean watch. He looks at me like I’m the hottest thing in the world, like he can’t wait for his turn. The way he’s looking at you right now. I love fucking him, but I swear to God when he’s giving it to me so good, I can’t breathe…there’s nothing better. I felt that. You almost came. You like hearing me talk about Dean? Good to know. Want to hear a story?”
Castiel put his hand over Sam’s, the one at his throat. “Yes, please.”
“Yeah, that’s right. When I was sixteen, Dean took me for ice cream and drove us to a lover’s lane. We had been screwing around for years but only fucked a couple of times, Dean made me wait. Not that I knew what I was missing.”
“You were too young,” Castiel said.
“Yeah, but not for my cock in his mouth or his tongue in my ass. I begged him for it, but he never gave in. Not until I was sixteen. Did Dean ever tell you about that? The first time he fucked me.”
Castiel shook his head.
Sam chuckled. “I think I’ll save that one.” Sam put his mouth even closer to Castiel’s ear, knowing Dean would have to strain to hear. “We didn’t even get a chance to finish our ice cream before we started making out. Made out for so long that our ice cream melted. This is when it gets good. Dean made me strip down and bend over the hood of his car, for the whole world to see. Then he took our ice cream and he poured it on me, letting it drip everywhere, even down over my ass. Fuck, then he ate me out. He ate me out so long I cried, cried because it felt so good. Then he fucked me until I came twice just on his cock.”
Castiel moan drowned out whatever Sam was going to say next as he came. His body went rigid before he collapsed back into Sam.
“Oh, Christ.” Sam heard Dean breathe just before he felt Castiel’s mouth on his fingers, lapping up his come.
Castiel turned to Sam, silently asking for a kiss that was given to him just as wordlessly. Sam sighed as Castiel licked and bit at his neck. “You said anything.”
Sam nodded.
“Say it.”
“Anything. I want you to do anything you want.” Sam begged.
Castiel lifted Sam’s shirt, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach, lingering at his tattoo and nipples. Dean stole glances as Castiel undid Sam’s belt and pants. Sam shushed, his control falling on the word as Castiel wrapped his hand around his cock, following it only moments later with his mouth. “Jesus.” Sam let his head fall back, his left hand cradling Castiel’s head and the other grabbing the door handle.
Castiel whined until Sam got the message and pulled at Castiel’s hair. His whines morphed into moans that had Sam leaning into Castiel’s body. Sam found himself wanting to watch but couldn’t stand looking at Castiel for too long; he looked so debauched that it brought Sam that much closer to coming.
When Sam warned that was about to come, Castiel immediately eased up, letting it build again before backing off. Dean felt like he was hard enough to snap skin but kept driving, it was obvious Castiel was in control. It went on for miles, until Sam’s moans were drowning out the music and it was a miracle Dean could keep them on the road. A new song started, and Sam couldn’t take it anymore. “Cas, please, can I come?”
Castiel pulled off and kissed Sam’s shaking lips, keeping his hand around Sam. “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”
Sam nodded, turned his head to Dean, his neck bent on the seat. “I know, I know.” Sam bit his lip, his eyes squinting shut ready to come before Castiel stopped.
Dean took a mental image of Sam wanton and Castiel’s mouth over his cock before turning back to the road. “Do you want him to stop, Sammy?”
Sam shook and nodded his head. “No, I just. I know I can come so good for you. I can come so hard for you, Cas.”
Sam whined as Castiel doubled his efforts but once again keeping him on the edge. Dean watched, his mouth watering at the sight as he glanced at the clock. Another two hours until the hotel. Sam’s noises grew louder for a few exits, but something clicked and eventually, Sam just took it. His body loosened and please and fuck became the only words he knew. Dean couldn’t help himself from looking far more often than he should have but Sam looked exquisite. His skin was flushed and the hair that was clinging to his forehead and back of his neck was almost black. When Sam wasn’t begging, his mouth was open, high pitched moans reverberating around the car.
Dean would have been lying if he didn’t push the speed limit just a tad bit more. Right before Dean took their next exit, Sam’s moans changed. Dean looked over and nearly pulled the car over right then and there because Castiel was three fingers deep in Sam as he sucked his cock. “Cas.” Sam’s voice was shot. “Please,” Castiel said nothing as he brought Sam to the edge once again. He switched to two fingers, letting his knuckles brush against Sam’s sweet spot. Sam bucked, “Fuck, Cas. I c–.”
Castiel let Sam’s cock fall from his mouth, allowing his hand to take over. Castiel pressed his mouth to Sam’s. “Have you had enough?”
Sam, now looking into Castiel’s sharp eyes, gave pause. He shook his head, “No.”
Castiel raised one brow. “So you won’t come until I tell you to?”
Sam shivered. “No.”
Castiel pressed earnestly against Sam’s prostate, relishing in Sam’s whimper as he pressed his cheek against his. “Look at Dean. Look at your brother.” Sam obeyed and nearly came. Not from Dean palming at his cock or even looking at Sam like he loved him so much and he was the hottest fucking thing in the world. No. It was knowing that his brother was watching Castiel tear him apart and loving it. “Ask him.”
“Dean, please.”
Dean wanted so badly to make Sam wait, to listen to him beg just a little more but wanted, even more, to see Sam completely come apart. “Do it.”
Sam was sure he felt two pairs of deft hands clean him up and redress him as the road moved underneath him. He felt someone playing with his hair and another holding his hand, tracing over his veins. He felt a lot of things before he fell asleep.
They pulled into the parking lot and Dean did a double-take. He expected a Holiday Inn, even a Marriott. No, this place was a four-star, had to be judging from the fact that valet was evidently included.
“This the right hotel, Sammy?”
Sam nodded.
Dean pulled in the empty driveway and went to get the bags out of the trunk. Castiel got out, holding the door open for Sam. Sam got out the car and the moment Castiel shut the door behind him, his legs buckled. Castiel’s inhuman reflexes caught him and with little preamble lifted Sam.
Dean gave a willfully oblivious valet his keys. Dean felt a moment of embarrassment before remembering that rich people surely got up too much stranger things.
Dean couldn’t seem to get them checked in fast enough. Though considering the time of day and level of service the few minutes it took to get their keys and spiel was no more than necessary.
Dean opened the door and let Castiel go first, even though he could have kept carrying Sam for miles.
It was a nice room. It had an open living area with a couch and TV that led into a kitchenette. There were wide windows on either side of a French door that opened out to a small balcony. The bathroom was half the size of the living room. Instead of a shower like most of the hotels and motels he and Sam had stayed in, this one had a large tub not unlike theirs at home, though this one had jets and spouts on the sides. Beside the marble counter inlaid sinks there was the door that connected to the bedroom.
Dean opened it just as Castiel set Sam down on what looked to be a King-sized bed. A smidge smaller than their Alaskan King but Dean was sure they’d manage. The bedroom unlike the rest of the suite was on the smaller side. There were two nightstands on either side of the bed and…not much else not even a window, just a large six-drawer dresser kitty-corner to a chair with a reading light attached to the wall.
Dean started to help Castiel get Sam ready for bed but thought better of it.
Instead, he sat in the chair and watched Castiel. Sam didn’t even stir. Castiel pulled Sam towards him, pulling the tucked sheets out from under him before tucking him in.
“You’re almost as good as me,” Dean murmured, as both he and Castiel changed into more comfortable clothes.
Castiel chuckled to himself as he folded his clothes. “Not quite.”
“We didn’t say it, but, um, we’re excited.” Castiel looked at Dean as he laid his folded pile on the dresser. “For you to move in.” Dean laid close enough to Sam to touch. He was looking at the ceiling, studying smooth beige that reminded him of the way Castiel took his coffee.
Castiel smiled and settled into the space that was left, not quite taking Dean’s hand in his but setting his atop it. Casual, yet intimate; just like Dean. “Me, too.”
Dean didn’t realize it until his eyes slipped shut for the final time that he was drifting. He wondered before sleep fully took him what he would say.
Castiel would tell him that he didn’t say a word.
Dean would tell no one that his dreams had said plenty.
Sam woke up first and thirsty enough to drink a river. Dean was still sleeping and Castiel wasn’t in the room. Sam glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 12:30. Sam got up and made a quick trip to the bathroom before going out to the living room.
The door to the balcony was cracked and the wind that rustled the curtains revealed a dark silhouette. Sam stepped out onto the cool concrete to see Castiel leaning against the railing. He’d changed into a pair of Sam’s sweats and one of Dean’s shirts, both of them just this side of too big.
Sam wrapped his arms around Castiel, letting their fingers intertwine. He leaned his head forward, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder.
“Dean still asleep?”
Sam nodded. “What’re you doing?”
Castiel shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About?” Sam’s breath tickled at Castiel’s cheek.
“I…I don’t know. A lot of things I suppose. I think about what we’ve gone through. How we got here. I reminisce. I think about our future, things I want to do with you and Dean.”
Sam hummed in acknowledgment. “Like?”
“I want to do this again. Go on trips. I want to spend more time with you both. Learn more about you. Sometimes I feel like I know everything there is to know about you and Dean and then you both will share a look and I realize what I don’t know could fill volumes.”
Sam chuckled to himself. “I mean, you’ve lived for hundreds of years, probably thousands and we’ve known you for maybe a tenth of that time?”
Castiel cocked his head to the side. He never thought that Sam and Dean cared to know about his time before them. Probably because Castiel found that he himself didn’t care. Not that anyone had ever asked, but Castiel felt as though his life began the moment he pulled Dean from Hell. Castiel thought of it in terms of movies. Before Sam and Dean, Castiel’s life was void of sound and color, muted gray tones and muffled voices whose words had no meaning.
Castiel rescued Dean and met Sam, though while his love for them was gradual, his attraction to them was not. He knew from the moment he met them that he would be forever attached to them, never willing to give up the music and kaleidoscopes they had shown him.
“My life may not be exciting as you may think but I am always more than happy to answer any questions.”
“Ditto.” Sam kissed Castiel’s cheek and started to mouth at his neck.
Castiel leaned his head back on Sam’s shoulder, a shiver running through his body. Sam’s body was like a furnace, a stark contrast to the stiff breeze. Castiel felt Sam’s hand slip under his waistband and Castiel was happy to just lean into it.
But a guttural growl emanated from Sam’s stomach, breaking the moment. Sam sighed and Castiel couldn’t help himself from laughing.
Castiel pat at the arm that was around his waist. “Come on, let’s get Dean up and get dinner.”
They both made their way back inside where Dean was in the kitchen downing what looked to be his third bottle of water. “I’m hungry.”
Sam snorted. “You guys want to order in or go out?”
Dean shrugged. “Let’s go for a drive. That’s why you brought us out here, isn’t it?”
Sam waited until Dean took his sip before answering. “Actually, I just wanted to fuck you both in a hotel room.”
Dean choked.
***
The moment the valet handed Dean the keys, Castiel asked, “Do you think I could drive?”
Dean hid his shock and hesitation with a smirk and shrug. “Sure. Why not?” He handed Castiel the keys and closed the door behind him.
It took Dean and Sam a moment to realize Castiel was waiting for Dean to tell him what to do. “Uh, yeah. So, uh, put the key into the ignition and turn it clockwise, this starts the car.” Castiel followed Dean’s instructions to the letter and a moment later the Impala hummed to life. “Okay, good. Now, you have a couple of pedals at your feet. The one on the left is your brake and the one on the right is the accelerator. You’re gonna put your right foot on the brake and put the car in drive.”
Dean rested his hand over Castiel’s and helped him slide the gear shift into position. “Great. Now, you’re gonna gently lift off the brake and just coast forward.”
Castiel did as he was told, coasted them out of the parking lot. “Perfect. Now there’s a stop sign up ahead so hit the brake.”
Dean was surprised at the slow stop Castiel coasted them into. “Nice. There’s nothing, so you can go ahead and accelerate. Speed limit is forty so you can go a little faster.” Castiel pressed the gas a little further, letting the needle hit forty before easing up.
“You’re doing great, Cas.” Dean complimented. “You want to keep going?”
“Yes.” Castiel blurted. “I mean, just a little further. If you’re don’t mind.”
Dean smiled. “No, of course not.”
Sam coughed and it sounded distinctly like ‘pushover’. Dean maybe accidentally slapped him in his chest.
Castiel led them through the next couple of intersections, listening to Dean tell him about his signal, mirrors, and other rules of the road. When without instruction Castiel lead them to the parking lot of a QuikTrip, he and Dean switched places.
“Not much is open this late.” Dean commented. “Any requests, Sammy? I know Cas wants–.”
“Cheeseburgers.”
Sam eventually found a place called Cookout just outside of town with the help of Google. They ordered enough food to feed a modest family of four plus milkshakes and waited patiently for their name to be called by the pick-up window. It was a warm night and the breeze was welcomed. Sam leaned back on the warm hood of the car and smiled to himself when Dean and Castiel joined him.
“You ever gonna let us in on your plan, Sammy?”
“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” Sam teased.
“Yeah, and if you tell me now, I’ll be surprised.”
Sam rolled his eyes and was saved when their name was called. Sam thought it interesting that Dean gave their last name. They all got two burgers each and wolfed down their first in record time. Dean warily sipped at his mocha milkshake, veering from his usual chocolate. Sam snickered at Dean’s groan.
“Bet you mine is better than yours.”
Sam shook his head. “No, they literally blended a slice of cheesecake into this.”
Castiel cleared his throat. “Actually, I bet you that mine is better than both of yours.”
They all swapped cups and after tasting; Dean and Sam begrudgingly agreed that Castiel cherry cobbler milkshake was the best.
“Okay, we don’t make bets for nothing,” Dean said, after shoving at least ten fries in his mouth. “What do you want?”
Castiel smirked, “Something that can be discussed back at the hotel.”
Dean shoved the rest of his second burger in his mouth, barely chewing before saying. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Cas.”
Sam shook his head. These really were the loves of his life, his food-obsessed dork of a brother and a retired angel who would eat cheeseburgers every meal if he could.
“Tempt implies I won’t follow through. I assure you I will.” Castiel leaned over to nibble at Dean’s ear following it up with the quickest of kisses. Dean started to lean in for another when he felt Sam tense and a moment later car doors slam.
Dean’s eyes didn’t move away from Castiel but focused on what was behind him. It was a habit. The hunter in him always needing to be cognizant of his surroundings. Two men had gotten out of their car, the smell of alcohol and weed wafting over when the breeze came in. One of the men made sure to make eye contact as he spit. The other, his brother from the looks of it, said plenty with a glare.
Dean, not one to back down, followed through with his kiss, deepening it for good measure. Sam wanted to maim him. Sam started to gather up their trash, knowing it was only a matter of time before they said something they couldn’t take back and Dean lost his temper.
“You see what I see, Tommy?” The taller one, the one with who spit.
“Dunno, Mikey. You see a couple of faggots?”
Sam deflated. They were so close.
“Sure do. Which one you think bends the other over?”
Castiel bristled and was up before Dean was. “Dean, don’t,” Sam said, it wasn’t a whisper. He wanted them to hear, wanted to warn them that it was when Dean had his good mood ruined that he could bring down a god-like wrath.
Dean chuckled, ignoring Sam. “You know, that’s the second time I’ve been called a faggot today, and I let the first bitch slide because I don’t like to hit women, but I think I might make an exception for you two.”
Castiel’s face was like stone, as he stepped in front of Dean, stopping him from getting too close. “Apologize.”
They both snorted.
“Cas, Dean, leave it. Let’s go.” Sam tugged at Dean’s sleeve.
“Yeah, run along.”
Castiel let his eyes glow blue and in the next moment, the two men were on their knees, hands at their throats fighting at an invisible vice.
“Cas-.”
Castiel paid Sam no mind. “I will not repeat myself.”
“Cas, what the hell?”
“I am waiting.”
The shorter one, Mikey, was turning from red to a deep purple. The feeblest croak of sorry escaped his lips and not a second later did Castiel release them. But the deep anger that had settled in him wasn’t satiated. Castiel waved a hand and the windows shattered in their car and their tires deflated.
Castiel said nothing as he headed towards the Impala.
***
Dean remembered the car ride after Dad had dragged him out of a bar when he was sixteen. After the arguing, the car was silent, their anger rolling off of them in waves. Dean would have taken that over this. He knew it was going to be a mess when Sam opted for the backseat instead. Dean cringed at the thought of Sam cramping himself into the back, knowing that Sam preferred it over sitting next to Castiel. Dean risked a glance at Castiel to see if he’d noticed the change in seating. He did. Dean noticed the streetlights flickering every time he passed one. The radio helped with the tense quiet but not nearly enough. It felt like the fuse was lit and it was just a matter of time before it blew.
Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Sam went straight to the couch and turned on the TV. Good. They both just needed time to calm down before they sorted this out. TV meant no talking. No talking meant no fighting. Dean took the middle seat, hoping Castiel would follow his lead. Dean fought back a groan when the TV shut off. “You’re upset.”
Sam shrugged and turned the TV back on. “I’m fine.”
Castiel glowered and the TV shut off once again and wouldn’t turn on judging from Sam’s fruitless presses of the remote. “What is it you tell Dean? Suck it up or say something?”
And since no one could do a bitchface like Sam, he returned it tenfold. “So shut up and let me suck it up.”
Dean winced. Fuck, this was gonna end badly. “Guys–.”
“You’re ignoring me.” Castiel was trying desperately not to raise his voice. Sam was upset and Castiel didn’t want to upset him even more just because he didn’t understand human emotions. He needed to be more human. He’d been trying; letting his emotions lead the way rather than logic and the overall ideology of what Dean called ‘the grand scheme of things’.
Sam rolled his eyes and got up. “What do you want, Castiel? Sex? Dean’s always ready, go bother him.” Sam headed for the balcony but Castiel was already in front of the door. It was a low blow but Sam didn’t really care.
The lights flickered and Dean hoped it was just their room. “Why are you so upset?”
Sam cut Castiel down with a look that was for the books. They were way past furious now. “You’re smart, Castiel. Take a guess.”
Castiel scoffed. “You’re angry at me for putting those reprobates in their place?”
“Winner, winner.” Sam deadpanned. “Did you think that Dean and I were going to fall over ourselves at that display of chivalry?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” Aside from the fact that Castiel never did anything for the Winchesters for gratitude, Sam and Dean were not the type to as Sam put it ‘fall over themselves’.
“You’re ridiculous.” Sam snapped. “They could have called the cops on us. It wouldn’t have taken them long to find us; our car is damn beacon. What would you have done?” Castiel knew exactly what he would have done but Sam didn’t seem to want an answer. He just wanted to scold him for not listening to him like he was a child. “I specifically asked you not to and you did it anyway.”
Castiel rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what it meant exactly but Dean and Sam tended to do it when they were frustrated. Castiel was frustrated. “Forgive me for not heeding to your every whim.”
“What if you went too far? What if you lost control and killed them?”
“I wouldn’t have.” Sometimes Castiel felt like Sam and Dean forgot how long he had existed. Being an angel was not new to him nor were his powers. If Castiel had truly wanted to kill those men, they would have been dead with a thought.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot, Castiel the angel is perfect; he never does anything wrong.”
Definitely sarcasm. Castiel had broken so many rules for both wrong and right reasons that he knew Sam didn’t mean what he said. Castiel felt like he was missing some crucial piece to understanding Sam’s anger. He felt that Sam wouldn’t have felt this way if Dean had hit those men or threatened them. “I didn’t say that. Is that what this is about? I’m not human. Therefore, I’m some beast that you need to tame?”
“Maybe,” Sam retorted. “It was so easy for you to just…lose it over words and we couldn’t have stopped you.”
Castiel flinched. “I see.” He knew it couldn’t have been so simple. Sam and Dean only calling on him when they needed something, it never occurring to them to have Castiel live with them…Castiel thought he could play the part, be the human Sam and Dean wanted him to be. But how could he, when they never treated him human in the first place? He was a tool; a weapon and a warm body when they needed one. “Allow me to relieve you of the burden.”
Dean started. “Wait, Cas–.”
It was too late. Castiel had already vanished.
_____
They had fixed it. Somewhat. Sam apologized and Castiel said he accepted though soon after he conveniently found a hunt that he wanted to take care of solo. Dean thought it was stupid of him to even be surprised. That was how their life always went; really good or really bad, that middle ground forever elusive. Castiel had called a few times and it just never went well; pauses just a tad too long, words too rehearsed. Eventually, the calls stopped, replaced by texts though even those had a short shelf-life. The hunt had probably been finished within days and Castiel was just avoiding them. They weren’t broken up, couldn’t be, Castiel just had to get his ass back to them so they could actually talk.
Sam turned to Dean as he closed the door to the cage that held a majority of their weapons, locking it with finality. “Is that the last of it?” It was, aside from the back-up guns, angel blades, machetes, salt, holy water, lighter fluid, and boxes of matches hidden in various places around the Bunker. Those were just in case. Call it paranoia or just being prepared but neither of them was about to leave it up to some wards to keep them safe.
“Yup.” Dean rhythmically cracked his back as he headed back to the war room, Sam on his heels. He diverted to the kitchen while Dean compulsively started to clear the table as if they were expecting company. They sort of were. Dean kept his back to Sam as he silently mouthed prayers. Dean wondered if it was still a prayer if he was cussing the angel out.
Sam came out of the kitchen with two beers and tossed one to his brother. “So, have you heard back from the garage?” Lebanon was a quarter-horse, just the one crosswalk type of town and there wasn’t much to do that didn’t require at least a two hours’ drive, not that either of them complained. Dean had found a garage about forty-five minutes out that needed a pair of extra hands. Dean had had his fill of the cars that came with the Bunker and was ready for some new work, even if that meant working on cars from this millennium.
“Start Thursday,” Dean replied after his first swallow. It didn’t bring the welcome burn their scotch would have but it was close enough. “You?”
“Classes start the second.” Sam decided to finish his degree at the college a couple of hours away. He managed to work out his schedule, so he had all his classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays to cut down on the back and forth. Once he graduated, he would probably end up teaching there too.
A thoughtful but slightly uncomfortable silence took over as they sipped at their beers. Dean was lounging ungracefully on the couch, his face telling that he was deep in thought.
“So this is it, huh?” Sam focused on the hardwood paneling of the floor. “No more hunting.”
Dean shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m sure there’ll still be hunting, Sam. But now it’s someone else’s problem. Like it should be.” They agreed to only do hunts within a few hours’ drive, ones that had the potential to wreak havoc on what was now their home turf.
Sam looked up at his brother. “So it doesn’t feel strange to you?” He prodded, “At all.”
“What?”
Sam called out on his brother’s bullshit with a look; he loved to play dumb, make Sam spell things out so he didn’t have to. “Knowing that we’ll never have to…”
Dean smirked blithely. “Stay in crap motels?”
Sam gave him a soft but stern look. “Dean.” He wasn’t going to let Dean get away with humoring his way out of this. They were giving up everything they’d ever known, for good. They’d done it before, but this time was different. It was the last. They were both alive and neither of them would have anyone to go to if one of them kicked the bucket on a hunt. As was the Winchester way they hadn’t talked about it outright. It had been a gradual thing, he and Dean no longer telling the other about any hunts they’d found until one day they’d stop looking altogether.
Dean set his beer bottle down slightly harder than necessary, the noise echoed off the walls, but when he spoke his voice was soft as it was wrought. “What do you want me to say, Sam? That no matter how hard I try; I can’t read a paper without looking for hunts. That it scares the crap out of me that I know there is a ghost haunting an innocent family four states away and we’re not in the car on our way to hunt the damn thing? Well, there you go, Sam. Happy now?”
Sam looked away, a look of hurt in his face. “No. Not really.” That was it, wasn’t it? The reason he couldn’t sit still for too long or truly enjoy the well-deserved reprieve they had granted themselves. The last piece of the puzzle and neither of them knew where he was.
Dean stifled a noise of frustration. For someone who liked to talk things out, Sam liked to beat around the bush sometimes. “What is it?”
“You know what.” Sam snapped. He wasn’t an idiot; both of them had been just ten degrees off from normal since Castiel had stopped answering their calls, texts, and prayers. “We haven’t heard from him in…” Sam knew exactly how many days, hours even since they heard from Castiel but neither of them needed that particular torture.
“Cas is a grown angel, Sam.” Dean snorted derisively. “He fights, smites, and answers whenever he wants. He ain’t obligated to check in with us.”
Sam wanted to point out that Castiel fucking should be. If Castiel needed time and space, fine, but it all it would take was a text, pixels on a screen to ease this gnawing feeling Sam had. “I know that, Dean, I know, but I–.”
“But nothing, Sam,” Dean interjected, sitting back down. “If Cas wants to talk to us all he has to do is teleport his feathery ass. Ain’t nothing stopping him.”
“It just feels different.” Sam nervously busied himself with picking at the label on his beer bottle. Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam shrugged. “I just can’t shake this feeling.”
Dean, now curious, looked at Sam. “Different how?
“I…I don’t know. Like there’s something I’m missing. Like…” Sam stared down at his hands, trying to find the words. “You know that feeling you get when it’s like everyone knows something that you don’t?”
“Yeah, I guess” Dean finished off his beer, he didn’t like where this was going but he wasn’t about to stop him. He got up and leaned against the table, facing Sam. “That’s what you’re feeling?”
“Yeah, but it’s like what I don’t know? It’s important. Really important.” Sam shook his head as if he was trying to physically rid himself of the feeling. Sam had never told anyone, not Dean and especially not Castiel that he often got feelings like this. Sam had chalked it up to the powers of demon blood never quite leaving him. It was often never more than strong déjà vu, maybe hearing faint moos and Dean coming home with burgers and milkshakes, or a phantom pain in his foot and Dean cursing a few moments later because he had stubbed his toe.
Dean couldn’t lie and said he felt the same. It might have been different if communication with Castiel had stopped abruptly or his messages hadn’t sounded like him or if there had been the danger of him getting truly hurt –angel blades thankfully weren’t that common or easy to come by– but it wasn’t. Castiel didn’t want to talk to them but what he wanted was going out the window now because he was worrying Sam.
“Then we’ll look for him.” Sam looked up at him, expressions of relief and wariness warring on his face. “Why not? We’re not doing anything except sitting on our hands.” The hunt Castiel had been on was in Nevada, a long ways away but they’d manage, there was still a chance that Castiel was still there, done with the hunt or not. “We’ll head out first thing,” He promised.
“You got plans tonight?” Sam snorted and looked at his watch. It was only nine o’clock; they had left later headed further before.
“I would,” Dean retorted, “If you weren’t being such a prude.”
Sam let his eyes drag languidly up Dean’s stretched out posture, from his boots to the lazy tilt of his head, knowing smirk and pupils close to blown. “You think I’m a prude?”
“Well, considering we’re both still dressed,” Dean sighed and leaned in, trapping Sam in his seat with firm hands on the arms of his chair, “I’d say so, yeah.”
Sam kissed Dean in a way that only he could, the way only years of practice could achieve; knowing where Dean was before he did and mirroring his movements with just as much force. Dean bent lower, his gun-calloused hands framing Sam’s face. Sam reacted with his fingertips sinking into Dean’s lower back, beneath his shirt. Dean pulled away just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head and Sam to do the same.
Dean groaned when Sam pulled him down into the seat, making Dean straddle him, it wasn’t comfortable, and the angle was awkward, but Dean wasn’t about to get up, not when Sam was grinding their crotches together like it was all he knew how to do. Sam was biting and kissing at his neck and it was literally going to all end in about two minutes. “C’mon, Sam.”
Sam lifted Dean with him when he stood and laid Dean out on the table. Sam took a moment to appreciate Dean's body; allowing his long slender fingers to slide down the expanse of his brother's speckled skin. His fingers caught on the waistband Dean’s pants and he had them off and across the room. “Beautiful,” Sam whispered with a final stroke almost too close to Dean's hard cock. Dean shuddered as goosebumps sprouted on his skin.
“Sam,” Dean begged. He arched his back, angling his waist towards Sam. It simultaneously made Sam want to laugh and hit something that he knew where every weapon was stashed in this fortress but didn’t know where the damn lube was. Dean was idly stroking his cock, his eyes half-hooded as he looked at Sam. Sam fell gracefully to his knees and brought his mouth to Dean’s hole. Dean let out a long-suffering sigh, arching into it. “Fuck, Sam, love your mouth.”
Sam preened, pressing Dean open and trying his hardest to open him up with just his tongue. Sam licked at the skin around Dean’s rim with the flat of his tongue until it was all just as soft and warm as inside him. His mouth watered when he tasted the soft heat just below his surface. Sam moaned, sharpening his tongue to get as deep inside as possible. Dean spread his legs even wider and fisted his hands in Sam’s hair. They had been doing this long enough for Sam to know; Dean was ready, but he wasn’t about to stop Sam if he didn’t want to.
All it took was Sam brushing his fingertips against Dean’s chin and Dean was sucking on his fingers like they were his cock. Sam groaned as he stood unable to keep himself from pressing himself against Dean. “Do it, get them wet, that’s all the lube you’re getting.” Dean whimpered and Sam pulled his hand away replacing it with his mouth, swallowing every one of Dean’s noises as he pressed in.
Dean immediately started to fuck himself on Sam’s fingers, desperate to be prepped. Sam wished he could have recorded the noise Dean made when he spit at his hole, Castiel would have been so jealous. Sam took out his fingers, quickly rewetting them along with a third before diving back in. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before Dean crying out, begging for Sam to fuck him.
Sam guided the head of his cock into Dean’s hastily prepped hole. It hurt, had to, but Dean was moaning like it was everything he wanted. “Doing so good.” Sam ran his hands down Dean’s sides, planting soft kisses on his neck and face. Dean ran his hands through Sam's hair, wordlessly saying 'I love you' with the simple repeated movement.
Sam sat up, coolness seeping into where their bodies were no longer touching. He pressed in and out slowly, still cautious. Sam found Dean's sweet spot easily, he nudged it, and Dean answered with quiet moan, legs wrapping around Sam’s waist. Sam thrust firmly in and out of Dean, still slow but going deeper, harder. Dean loved when they took things slow; it gave the illusion that they had all the time in the world, that their days weren’t so numbered. Sam laced his fingers through Dean’s, resting their linked hands on Dean’s shoulders.
“Remember what this was like with Cas?” Dean felt Sam’s lips right at his ear, his words meant only for Dean. “How it felt to have him inside both of us, knowing exactly what we wanted?” Dean nodded took in a harsh breath, his body shook as Sam brushed against his prostate again. Castiel always swore up and down that he couldn’t read their minds but when they were together like this it was hard to believe; he always knew just what to say, where to touch, in the same way Sam and Dean knew only by years of learning.
“I don't even do him justice, do I?” Sam smirked.
Dean shook his head desperately, meeting Sam’s thrusts. When it came to this, there was no good or better, or even good or great, only different. “So good, Sammy.” Dean felt Sam’s hips stutter when called he said Sammy so he said it over and over.
Sam kissed at Dean everywhere but his mouth, not wanting the words to stop. “As soon as he comes back, we’ll do this, won’t we?”
There was a beat of silence, Dean groaned, mostly at himself when he felt wetness seep from his eyes despite how tightly he shut them. It scared him as much as it saddened him. What if Castiel didn’t want this anymore? Didn’t want them? Sam and Dean had been fine on their own for a long time but after being with Castiel, Dean didn’t know if they could just go back to the way it was before.
Sam shook his head as he lowered to kiss away his doubt. “We will. We will find him.” Sam took Dean’s cock in his hand and pressed his lips to his, wanting him to feel his words, “I promise.”
Dean sat up, pushing Sam away and to the floor. He held Sam’s gaze as he pressed himself back down on Sam’s cock, biting back a groan. Sam grabbed at Dean’s waist tight enough to leave bruises and pulled his legs up to brace him as he fucked into him. “Come on, Sammy. Remember Cas. Isn’t that what you said?” Dean ducked his head and started to suck on any and every inch of Sam’s warm skin he could reach, fingers parting Sam’s hair until it cooled the webs of his hands.
“Yeah.” Sam swallowed thickly, fucking even deeper into Dean, “Cas.”
Dean took Sam’s ear into his mouth, feeling that pressure in his gut, “Cas.” He breathed the word like a prayer as they came.
**
Showered and nearly ready for bed, Sam and Dean packed quickly and efficiently. Castiel had gone to Nevada to hunt what appeared to be a clan of shapeshifters. A group of at least three, taking over entire families one by one. Stocked to the brim with silver bullets and knives, they were as prepared as they could be, ready to leave at first light.
Dean had just shut off the last light in the library, when he heard a noise come from the foyer. Dean and Sam threw each other look before both of them grabbed at the ornamental swords closest to them. Dean led the way, walking on the balls of his feet through the dark. They reached the foyer, looking around as their eyes adjusted, listening for anything else out of place. Nearly a minute of them just waiting, before Sam turned on the light.
Dean and Sam had seen plenty. Open fractures, chest cavities torn open, heaps of shed skin, the worst things done to both human and non-human bodies, and yet neither of them was prepared.
A pair of jet-black wings lay on the floor, not strewn, placed particularly. They were large, easily six feet long and no doubt just as wide if outstretched. They sat in shallow pools of thick blood slowly filling beneath them, steadily dripping from the raw flesh that was at the root. The feathers were broken, frayed, and crumpled; bent at flinching science-fiction angles as if there was a great struggle in the removal. An odor eerily similar to iron and salt permeated the room, saturated it with horror.
Dean grabbed his jacket off by the stairs and flung the one beside it to Sam, who caught it robotically, his gaze still set to the wings. “Get in the car, Sam.”