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Sometimes Castiel has to pinch himself to believe the turn his life has taken. How he as the 'weird science geek' of their FBI department has landed a partnership unlike any other, making him the envy of those who'd looked down on him before. That he and his work camera at last have a purpose now, a career of growing importance, all because of the infamous Winchesters and their inability to stick with the unspoken rules of status. No, they care not that he is socially awkward… or that his sense of humour is dark, and his presence is an aloof one, because more often than not he does not quite understand people. Instead they've taken him under his wings, in more ways than one…
Oh, none of his colleague federal agents know yet how far under the Winchester spell he has fallen. Why around them he has become less awkward and far more confident in his skin. That with the brother team of agents he has taken on more than an assignment, or the strange unsolved case no one else but Sam and Dean saw fit to try and make sense of. No, their colleagues can't see them as he does, because the brothers won't let them see their emotions, not if they can help it. "I am fine", he's heard them say it too often. Castiel though never put much stock in the white lie… and less so now. How can he?
These days he can read eyes of green and the other pair of impossible hazel irises all too well. He's looked in them on so many times that he sees the pain even when shielded from most. The signs of distress when a trace runs cold or they are called in to another crime scene. Every death mourned for, even when she's the runaway girl gone prostitute. Castiel knows now how angry at the world Dean gets when he believes that he has failed an innocent… and how Sam bottles up each loss inside of his huge, compassionate heart. Under all the bluster and reputation for trouble lie two agents who give every single case their all, perhaps even more than that. Which is why Castiel too will ride out with them. Duty and the need to make the world a safer place to live in… but there are so many more reasons than those too.
The evidence gathered on how far his love for them goes is stored to full, colourful detail on his other camera. The one he's left behind next to the bed, in the company of a pair of leather cuffs and his forgotten house keys… the ones who belong to the flat he's not been to for a while. Maybe his clumsy, forgetful morning mind had tried to tell him something? Or maybe it is nothing more than an after effect of how Sam had sucked his brain out through his dick while Dean took him merciless from behind? Fuck, but despite of the soreness in his ass the memory alone of last night makes his button-down jeans feel too tight.
Castiel trails his fingers over the red scrape that since marks his left wrist, before he pulls on his shirt sleeve to hide the same memories of how hard it had been to stay still while cuffed to submission. To be denied touching them… how he had both hated it and loved it with equal passion how he'd felt stuck in the middle, in the literal sense. So much pleasure. Almost too much of a good thing. But the best part? How tuned in to the other Sam and Dean are, as brothers and as lovers. Glances of understanding rather than orders given. Even now Castiel is not sure of how come that Sam slips in line behind Dean's dominant nature so well.
Leaning back in his office desk chair, Castiel downloads the latest case evidence from his camera. His impatience turns to self doubt while he watches the progress bar go the distance to a hundred percent. As it creeps onwards, he wonders if his good fortune in love can last. Whatever he has with the Winchesters, is it limited to the case? But how come that his toothbrush, shampoo and spare underwear have settled into their bathroom? It's impossible too to deny the shelf Sam has cleared out for him in his wardrobe. That his favourite shirt, the one he's wearing today, shamelessly smells of their laundry detergent, not his own.
Not for a first time does he feel bewildered about what they're seeing in him. Why they'd let him, out of everyone else, into the biggest secret of all; their forbidden relationship gone so much deeper than it ought to between brothers.
From across the hall Castiel hears their voices drifting over through doors left ajar. Ideas bounce off between the two agents as Sam tries to make sense of patterns, which only he can see, while Dean offers the case his years of hands-on field experience. Castiel doesn't even have to be in the room with them to picture how Sam sits perched on his desk, musing out loud about his theories. He too knows that Dean may either be cleaning his gun or he's going through the physical evidence they'd asked Castiel to gather in the field along with the other forensic experts. The box will stand next to him, more than likely half unpacked if not emptied out, so that Dean can paint his picture of traces left behind. Castiel aches to be with them… but no, he has promised them to upload his crime scene photographs, and now five minutes have become half an hour, because Windows is being a bitch. Figures!
The minutes tick by slowly. Castiel gets up from his chair to stare out of his office window. Five floors down chaos rules the crowded city and its people. Sounds from the streets below drift up as he zones out, thinking back to where he comes from. How he's always stood out as odd in his family too. The youngest sibling of eight, and how he will forever prefer helping others over turning to business deals, order and rules. None of his family members though ever understand him or hear him out. Well, except for maybe Gabriel, who too had walked to make a life for himself… wherever it was he'd ended up. Somehow Castiel has the feeling that if his wayward brother knew he may even cheer him on in regard to the strange turn his life has taken. Hell, it is so unlike him to jump into something heart over mind. But, looking back, he knows he never stood a chance with the Winchesters.
Sam, who'd merely smiled at him, dimples and all on the first day Castiel got assigned to him as a second work partner. Where Castiel had not ever believed in love at first sight he'd felt like he could drown in the soul standing before him. That softness beyond the strong front and more so, that clever mind which thrives and works even harder when the going gets tough. Or Dean, loyal and strong. Righteous even though he pretends to be nothing but cool and trouble. Castiel doesn't even understand why he saw into them where in any other case human behaviour eludes him. These two though… well, there's something undeniable about them which had lured him in, and it still did.
One long ass day on the case was all it took. Castiel remembers the after more than well. How in the final hours of the night they'd stumbled into the Winchester house where he had slept on their couch, dead to the world, until the smell of bacon had called to him and had Sam crouched down by his side to gently nudge him awake. Seeing those beautifully unguarded eyes from so up close had done Castiel in. As a non-morning person, he had acted before he'd thought. An intended peck on soft, welcoming lips though turned into more, because Sam tasted like the earth and the cool dawn, which he had braved with a jog. He too had smelled of the fresh shower he'd taken and his beloved shampoo.
"Morning", Sam's startled, but amused stammer had held nothing over the answering kiss. But far more defining had been how Dean stood watching them from the kitchen, waiting for them to surface for air… then asking for such a sweet morning greeting too, his words. And Dean? Well, no one owned a kiss or a man like him. So, when he had ordered them both upstairs… who were they to argue?
Swept off his feet. Castiel knows now what the sentiment means, gets it to the fullest. But where does following his desire and heart lead him to? He's so damned afraid to be honest with himself or the brothers. Can he deny though how he's basically fallen in love with two souls at first sight? Oddly, on most days he feels like they are one entity, two halves of a whole… or whatever else poets will name it. Partners… yes… brothers… too… but when he's being held close in their bed, he doesn't feel crowded, only worshipped by them both in equal measure. Sure, they are two different people whom he knows intimately, but they balance the other out like yin and yang. Which leaves him confused on how he doesn't upset what they are sharing, not so far. How come?
"Hey, handsome."
Castiel startles at the arrival of Dean. "Wha… what?"
"Always so serious." Dean saunters in, assured in his strides, but eyes full of quiet concern and yet shameless lust too. "I've been watching you, you know."
"Like the voyeur he is", Sam teases as he follows Dean inside, closing the door behind their suit clad backs.
Grinning, Castiel attempts to shake off his musings and self doubt. The remark alone reminds him of how the Winchesters are kinky bastards too. How beyond that gentleness in Sam and the gruff front of Dean lies a whole world of bedroom pleasures unlike any Castiel has ever thought of before. Sensual delights that are satisfying beyond words or reason. "Through my lens or…"
"Ha. I asked you nicely if I could borrow your camera." Dean crosses his arms.
As so often Sam is quick to mediate by diving into the issue. "A blind man can see it, Cas. Are you… having doubts? About us?" His soft voice sounds insecure, worried even.
Shaking his head, Castiel admits to his truth, because lying to Sam is not an option for him to even contemplate let alone use. "About myself. Never you…"
As if sensing Sam's sadness Dean rests a hand on his brother's shoulder. The contact is brief, almost easy to miss, but Castiel knows them too well not to see it. Dean nods then, as if he acknowledges something he may well have talked with Sam about before coming over. "You need to make your choice. We won't push you, but when you are ready to admit to yourself what Sammy and I know, come home to live with us?"
"Dean…" His stammer of awe over what is being asked of him can't continue under the press of two calloused fingers against his lips. How has Dean moved so swiftly into his personal space?
"No." Lips brush a gentle kiss on his unshaven cheek. "Be sure, Angel, before you return to our bed."
If the endearment by itself isn't enough to throw him off balance in a good way Sam's soft kiss on his other cheek might. Far too quick though he's left by himself, standing in the office. Stunned in the wake of their offer. Feeling lost too over how much he's wanted in their life… and how he can no longer deny that what he's felt… still feeling… for them isn't one-sided at all. Can he even say no? Hasn't his heart already decided for him?
Maybe he's a fool for walking across the city alone, to arrive at the Winchester home front door soaked by the rain and shivering to boot, because the evening air has gone cold on him. Regardless though of his poor choice in transportation Castiel finds that he's more clear-headed than he's been since he met the sources of why his life has turned upside down. This majestic oak entrance before him now leads to his home. He's sure of it, because his clarity too comes with a sense of belonging, one he's never had before.
As he rings the doorbell, Castiel grows impatient almost, and not just because he wants to be surrounded by dryness and warmth. One last obstacle left in his way of happiness. His way to Sam and Dean; he wants for them to hold him and make love to him. For them to stake their claim on him if they see fit too.
Sure enough, when the door opens, he gets pulled inside by Dean, who wraps him up in a bear hug, seemingly uncaring of his wet state. For a sweet second it appears like no one can outdo this mother of all hugs, but when Sam next engulfs them both, nothing feels more perfect to Castiel than being tucked in between them. Blessed body heat soon warms him up. "Sam… Dean…", he murmurs into their fold.
"Does this mean that you are staying?"
"Yes." Castiel looks up into Dean's face to answer him. He is happy to see the serious green gaze turn to unbridled emotions of love and pure joy, which the elder Winchester will never express otherwise. "I've come home to you, the both of you", he confirms.
"Good." In the same second Dean speaks of his relief Sam pulls away to drop onto his knees with the same flexible elegance Castiel has only become privy to of late. While next he turns his attention towards the laces of his soaked shoes and then his socks Dean peels him out of his coat. Castiel stands shivering by the time they have rendered his clothes down to his damp, black boxer briefs and t-shirt.
"Up you go…" Dean orders him towards the stairs with a no-nonsense gesture. "Shower… go get warm again. Sammy?"
"Got him."
As if it is perfectly normal, Sam wraps his large hands around his hips from behind, guiding Castiel forth and up the stairs to lead him onwards into their large, comfortable bathroom. Feeling both lost and cared for beyond belief, Castiel is happy for Sam to reach past him and switch on the shower… but before he can undress and seek out the heat Sam leans down to kiss the skin behind his right ear. "May I uncover the rest of you?" Though Sam is still dressed in his jeans and hooded sweater his arousal isn't hard to miss for Castiel, because it comes to rest in between his cotton covered ass cheeks like it belongs there.
"Yeah." So, what if he sounds a little breathless? Castiel can't help his rising want, even though he feels beyond cold and he needs the shower more than he needs Sam… for now. Less so when gentle hands peel the last, wet layers from his skin with added lingering touches. "Sam", his gasp of want is a pitiful one at best. Damned the cold, and his foolish idea to go for a walk to clear his head. He should have called a cab.
His self-depreciating thoughts however don't last long. Not when the blessed spray of the shower replaces the heat of Sam, warming him up, skin first… his muscles and bones to follow suit. Fuck, it feels so good. Every bit of tension seeps further away from him to drain away along with the water. Castiel closes his eyes, savouring the peace and heat alike. But in the silence too Sam returns to him. Bare footfalls as the smallest sound until he's but a foot or so removed from his back turned outwards.
"I've tried…", Sam says. "… to stay away. To give you a moment to yourself, but Cas, you are so beautiful and I long to have you near. Can I? Touch you, I mean?"
"Am not…" He's about to turn, deny the claim of beauty he doesn't believe in. Instead he falls silent as Sam wraps those damned hands around his hips to lock him in place, not with force, but with sheer presence of touch alone.
"You are to me… to us."
"Us?"
The click of his own lend out camera betrays the truth before Sam answers him with a soft grin. "Dean wants to watch me please you. Make photographs as I fall to my knees to eat you out, worship your cute ass, so that we can take it later… make slow love to you until we've worn you out. Any objections?"
Surety and arousal hit Castiel at once. Sam speaking such filth undoes him every time… no exceptions. "None."
"Thought not. Put your hands against the wall, 'cause we don't want you to slip."
He's barely done as told when Sam parts his legs. "So pliant", comes the praise. Where Castiel hadn't even felt it the man behind him soon kneels on the tiled floor to do as promised in turn. As if he's as eager as he is Sam plants kisses on his lower spine, only to lick his way down… and down until he finds his exposed opening. Anticipation can't even rise, because Sam dips the tip of his hot tongue inside. No more than a fraction of what's to come. Pure pleasure travels straight to his cock as nerve endings are awoken, almost without effort. The fingers that are now holding him open go from gentle to purposeful… as does the tongue which licks him open, steady and slow stabs towards his core… seeking out its way inside in the company of both of their moans.
"Fuck, yeah. Keep going, Sammy."
Castiel has almost forgotten about Dean, but not quite… and far less so when he encourages his little brother in that deep voice of his. Someone is turned on! And not only from watching him, but Sam too. Castiel risks a glance over his shoulder to meet with a knowing smirk of lewd and sinful pleasure. Dean rubs himself through his faded blue jeans, shameless of his desires. His Henley hugs around his broad, muscled chest when he moves to snap another photograph. Because of how every inch of Dean oozes control Castiel can't help but shiver in his pleasure. Hell, it's all kinds of hot to feel those eyes take in every inch of his by now flushed skin and hard as nails, pre-come dripping cock.
His hands are slipping a little when he arches his back, so eager for more in his arousal. Sam is so good at this and Castiel feels like he can come apart with that wicked tongue slammed up deep inside of him. While he wants to touch himself he can sense that it is best not to, because his knees have turned to mush, and he might fall. Also, he somehow knows that Dean will tell him off should he even try. After all, each delightful caress of Sam's tongue is meant to prepare him for what's to come. As good as it feels to Castiel to melt around the wet intrusion it can't last, won't, because they want something more from him… and so when the order comes to pull apart, for now, he isn't surprised… far from it.
"That's it. I want you two in my bed."
Castiel isn't sure who has to support who as Sam and he are trying to get their legs to work. Maybe they are too eager as well, because they don't bother to dry themselves off completely. After shutting down the shower, Sam wraps him up in a large towel while he does the same in turn. Drawn out by eyes gone soft and a tender hug Castiel entwines their fingers. "Thank you", he says. "I don't think I even know the meaning of tense anymore." The only reward he needs is the dimpled and somewhat shy smile of pure love aimed for him. Falling ever further into love with the man, Castiel allows for him to tug him over to where an at last naked Dean watches their arrival, arms crossed, hard cock jutting up to its impressive size and his eyes full of impatient longing.
"Took you long enough."
But as gruff as he sounds as playful is Dean in gesturing Castiel over. A request he doesn't deny him, because he knows that only good will come from it. Sure enough, he gets wrapped up into another warm hug and a demanding, but oh-so-sweet kiss intended to leave him breathless. Even as fingers are peeling away the towel from between them Dean keeps claiming his lips, before he nibbles on his jawline and he trails a couple of chaste pecks down his throat. "Sammy, come join us."
Lost in the sensation of him Castiel leans back his head against Sam's chest, who in answer hugs him from behind, effectively pinning him back in place between two hard, handsome bodies of warm skin. Sam as always is more tender than Dean is. Even so, his hands and tongue too are almost possessive in staking a claim on him where they can. Every part of his body can't help but react to both men. They know him too well by now. His weaknesses, where he is more than sensitive and how to drive him insane with want. His fingers are seeking for leverage, but he finds none. Held stuck in the middle he's powerless to the torment of being worshipped by the full Winchester force.
Hell, he doesn't know where one brother ends and the other begins anymore. Can only watch as their mouths ravage the other as if there's no tomorrow. Sam curses the name of his brother, shameless and filled with so much love that it almost breaks his heart. It never ceases to amaze Castiel how well they are melting together… how they can move from each other and back to him like one entity focussed solely on doing him apart, with one fist around his aching cock and two hands wrapped around his buttocks.
One stuttered breath… and long, lube slick fingers are seeking out his relaxed opening. As he curses out in joy Sam presses two digits in past his rim and he wastes no time on sinking in deeper slowly in a smooth, knowing caress of intimate friction and pressure of the best kind. Castiel has to cling to Dean to keep standing while Sam fucks him with those wicked fingers of his… slow, teasingly, careful to open him further to what's to come. Mindful too in finding his prostate on the end of each push into him.
"Please." Castiel gasps out in raw pleasure. He's so close, but he wants more than those damned fingers. Needs to feel them, both of them, burrow inside of his body and stake their rightful claim on him. "Sam… Dean… fuck… I need…"
Pliant to their whims, Castiel watches as Dean settles on the king size bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the nest of the pillows. One gesture is enough to beckon him away from Sam and over to Dean. The large hands wrapped around one of his hips each however refuse to leave him altogether, for which Castiel is strangely glad and a little concerned at once. What are the brothers up to? Wordless Sam guides him to straddle Dean's lap… not yet lowering his ass to meet with those strong thighs… not until Dean nods and Sam answers the order with the same ease by which he meets any other given in the bedroom.
As Sam sits him down at last the blunt, pre-come wet head of Dean's thick cock breaches him open. Castiel gasps at the instant sensation of raw pleasure. Everything in him wants what's to come, arches into the sweet slide of being filled as gravity does what it does best… pull him down further onto Dean. What once had hurt him, because both Winchesters are built to a generous size, now brings only the pain pleasure he's wanted since the evening's first kiss. Unaware of it himself Castiel closes his eyes to savour the exquisite sensation of initial completion when he bottoms out on that gorgeous, full cock. "Dean…"
"Fuck, you're tight… so good to me." Lips press a kiss of encouragement onto his forehead. When Castiel blinks open his eyes, Dean meets his look with nothing but unbridled lust reined in, because for all his gruffness the man refuses to ever hurt any of his lovers. Dominant, yes. Never though will he give them anything but pleasure, while maybe stretching a few limits… as he is now by 'forcing' him to set the pace. "Ride me when you are ready to move, Angel."
For a second Castiel feels in over his head. He's always let the brothers lead their heated encounters, because they are the first men he's lain with. The reasons why he added one and one together on his sexuality. How gender doesn't matter to him, but how he tends to be slow on the uptake and he is naive in the bedroom too, because no one else has ever bothered to teach him about the pleasures of the human body. Two clumsy, straight relationships of short-lived closeness are all he's managed. Both times his awkward nature got in the way, but not anymore. Sam and Dean get his inexperience, as shown once more in the supportive hand on his lower spine. Sam! He can feel how the younger Winchester is offering him courage, and a means to relax further around Dean at once, via his generous touch of more understanding than the three of them can or will ever speak of.
A little awkward at first Castiel lifts himself up to roll his hips back down. He finds more courage though in how Dean wraps his hands around his hips to guide him and steady him on each next thrust. What feels tense and too tight at first turns to nothing but pleasure when to his joy they find the right angle to do him apart on. Each push into him ends on a spark of sensations, getting more powerful each time. His shyness on being on top in a way can't remain under such sweet onslaught. Castiel rocks his hips down more determined on every go, seeking out what feels right and trying to take Dean even deeper into his ass. His moans mingle with the ones Dean can't keep inside either. "Cas… that's it… harder… like that, yeah."
Dean meets him now on every push downwards, arching up to bring them closer. Never enough… Castiel needs more, wants to touch himself, but Sam grabs his hands to rest them on his own back and cuff them in place. "Not yet, love… no touching… you can come like this, we both know it."
"Sam… I need… more…" His rhythm of fucking himself onto Dean falters at the changed position, at being bound by his wrists and held up by the man who slams his cock into his prostate without mercy, before stopping short to pause on him. "Dean…" The whimper of loss rips from his throat unchallenged.
Dean grins at him. "Oh, Angel, you're gonna have to take so much more. Trust us?"
"Always." With all of his earlier doubts gone from his foolish mind Castiel has no reason to be unsure anymore. The Winchesters are doing him in, but he doesn't mind in the least. Is happy go out on a high… which he knows he's going to get before the end. Letting go too is easier when he's cuffed, when he can't use his hands and has to trust in the brothers to keep him safe and loved between them.
"Sammy will go slow. He won't hurt you, but if it gets to be too much, say so. We want to make it good for you. Promise?"
"Yeah."
The hand, which Sam had never retreated from his lower back, slides lower, seeking out the crack of his ass and sliding towards where he's split open on Dean's cock. Warm and lube slick fingers tease his stretched-out rim on the outside, hinting at what's to come, though he can't grasp their meaning… not yet.
"Kiss me", Dean tells him, and he lets the elder brother distract him until he's breathless. Their tongues find each other. Castiel melts under how Dean explores his mouth while with a cheeky hand he too plays with his nipples, which grow hard and sensitive at once. His hiss of pleasure though goes unheard, for it is swallowed up into Dean.
Beyond the haze of breathless delight, a sense of pressure in his ass pulls him back towards Sam. Somehow one of those wicked fingers of his has slipped into Castiel, right next to every swollen inch of Dean. How can the additional stretch fill him so good? It blows his mind and tears another drop of pre-come from his treacherous cock. The notion of what Sam is doing to him seems absurd… and yet Castiel feels how his body adjusts to the maddening fullness… welcomes it even. More so, the promise of the next finger which brushes over his rim leaves him on a stutter of both wanting it and fearing it. Can he? But as it slides inside with a slow press of care and warmth Castiel knows he needs for his body to yield… because he wants both brothers to be inside of him now.
"Cas…"
"No." Castiel shakes his head at Dean's soft inquiry. His earlier fears… he knows now where they'd come from, because with the Winchesters by his side he is far more reckless than he used to be. Not because they bring out the worst in him, but the best. It's about time he lived for himself and for those whom he loves dearly. His heart and body are in the palm of their hands anyhow, so why not everything else he is too? He makes his choice without regret or shame. "Let me feel it all… Sam… I want you both."
"Hell yeah…" Dean gasps out at the same time Sam lets out a moaned curse, because as if fate too welcomes his choice Sam's second finger is let into his body too. "Fuck… Cas…"
Wider… deeper… with added lube too, Sam teases him open further from the inside out. Three fingers now. Never careless, but as the pressure builds it gets to become almost too much. The fullness is insane by now. Castiel can't help but whimper, tremble around those wicked fingers and Dean's rock-hard cock lying trapped still deep inside of him. His cock deflates a little and yet he can't bring himself to ask for reprieve, because the painful friction too feels so damned good. The idea of what's to come…
Dean kisses his temple and he wipes a thumb over his cheek to smooth a tear away. "Cas? Be honest with me… does it hurt?"
Inside of him Sam stills his fingers, drawn to Dean and his concern like he is. "No… it's overwhelming. Impossible… I shouldn't want to… but I do. Sam please. Want you, not your fingers. Just… please?" Castiel knows he is babbling, breathless from his want and shaking too over how intense it feels.
They don't answer him, at least not in words. Sam though leans closer as he meets Dean's eyes over his left shoulder. Tucked permanently almost in between them now Castiel can't shake the intimate awareness of their unspoken conversation, of the Winchesters coming to a solemn agreement. Their plan continues, but so does their vigil over his well-being. He can feel it in how Sam is careful and tender as he slips free his fingers… and in how Dean guides him to lean forwards until he's held close to his chest. Snug and safe. Loved too.
Everything though pauses when Sam joins their embrace. Castiel can feel his long cock aligning with Dean's. How Dean paces himself with a hiss while his baby brother slips into the tight heat next to him. The pregnant pause should have been enough warning, but it takes Castiel by surprise still when in one mind-blowing rush of pained pleasure and all-consuming fullness Sam slides into where he belongs. Fingers dig into his flesh while he curls his own by leather bound hands around the one which slips into his… Sam… and his ever need to watch out for him. Too much! But when he cries out both of their names, they're full of pleasure and completion. It's insane, but fuck does it feel good to have them both burrowed deep into his body.
The rush of completion takes them all. They're sitting and kneeling together like one entity of limbs and sweat covered bodies. Together at last. From this there is no turning back. Castiel is where he belongs… home. And so, when the brothers move to do him apart, which as so often they do as one, he lets them take what they want. Can't find his wits until the sweet burn becomes more than a white searing ball of pleasure. He moves with them then in search for an end to the madness… and yet not. The high is insane, but he can't get enough of it.
Rhythm can't last. Not when they're all struggling under such intense closeness and maddening pleasure. Castiel can't clench his ass around those two damned fine cocks which again and again hit home to where he needs them most to get off on. Untouched still they bring him ever closer to release. He tethers on the edge until he's more than willing to jump off it… but not without them. Not without those bastards who own him unlike no one else ever could or will again. He's theirs. Why has he ever doubted that? No… why did he doubt himself? When he is what they want to lie their claim on… to bridge their stubborn tempers and glue them all together.
He's become more than reckless by now. His voice gone hoarse though manages to wrap around their names mingled in between breathless whimpers for his release… begs answered with similar sentiments of nonsense words. Castiel snaps his hips back down and this time he can't do so again, because he's a goner. The fire inside of him erupts into a blinding orgasm, which leaves him shaking and renders his world almost dark. As he rides out the rush of ecstasy though he feels Dean tense, spill, then go limp on them as well while Sam needs a handful of unsteady, but oh-so-powerful thrusts into his spent body. Semen seeps out of him while one brother at the time eases his soft cock from his beyond stretched hole.
His world goes to complete darkness, but not before Castiel feels their kisses and he hears their murmurs of praise follow him into slumber. The last thing he knows is how they undo the cuffs fastened around his wrists before they tuck his beyond sated body in between theirs. How they both wrap him up in their arms and under the sheets of their bed for three, cared for in every way which matters.
No, he doesn't have any regrets… not yet, and not ever, even though he's sure that he's going to be sore and he will struggle walking for the next few days ahead at least. Castiel has come home, and after years of loneliness it means more to him than he can ever tell his lovers. His forgotten keys by the side of the bed mean nothing to him anymore. He's not going back there, because in here he's surrounded by everyone and everything he needs in life.
THE END