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Triquetra

Summary:

In a world where magic is common, there is an institution known simply as The University. It has the best teachers, the best library, and the best location no knows where. But that's what the portals are for, anyway.

Teacher Jimmy Novak, and Head Archivist Castiel Novak, have a unique relationship that is generally tolerated by staff and students, minus a cruel word of gossip or two. Otherwise, life is easy, work is fulfilling, and their world is quiet. Only the students change, and that's fine.

Until Dean Winchester joins the faculty and everything else changes.

Notes:

Dipping my toes in DCJ fic. What an adventure. I'll probably post weekly, like I usually do :D

Also, if you didn't know, I'm on Tumblr too if y'all wanna come say hi :)

If you're wondering about the title, the Triquetra is also known as a Trinity Knot :)

Chapter Text

“Have you heard about the new professor?”

“I heard he’s a demon.”

Was.  He was a demon.  He’s cured.”

Jimmy isn’t the type to eavesdrop but it’s hard not to pay attention to gossip that juicy.  A demon, cured?  He didn’t even think that was possible.  He keeps his head down, pretending to review his syllabus, but his attention is fully on the conversation between the teachers at the next table over.

“That has to be a lie.  There’s no way he was cured of being a demon.”

It’s unkind of them to spread rumors.  The comment is accompanied by the rustle of feathers and the click of talons on the table.

Jimmy glances at the large barn owl perched at his elbow.  “You’re curious too.”

The owl’s head swivels and round blue eyes blink up at him.  Of course I am.  I’m just pointing out that gossip isn’t very nice.  You know why I don’t like it.

He does know, but since the gossip about them is true, Jimmy shrugs it off.  Leaning over, he rubs his nose through the soft feathers between the owl’s eyes, which droop shut under the affectionate nuzzling.  “I’ve gotta get ready for class.  See you at lunch?”

Feathers the color of egg-nog fluff up in the owl equivalent of a nod before large wings spread.  It lifts itself into the air with a powerful flex, and Jimmy watches fondly as it flies away.  He ignores the judgemental looks from his peers, and the curious looks from students trickling into the cafeteria, and gathers up his paperwork and his messenger bag.

The halls are still mostly empty since it’s early.  The only students he sees are ruffled and droopy-eyed, and every single one has a huge coffee or an energy drink in hand.  They barely notice him as he dodges around their slow shuffling.

In his classroom he turns on the projector, plugs in his laptop, and starts digging through his bag for the thumb drive with today’s presentation, because he's that asshole professor that gives actual lessons on the first day of class.  Enochian for Newbs.  He chuckles at his own immaturity.

A knock brings his head up before he finds the drive, and he instantly forgets what he was looking for when he sees the man leaning through the door.  Several impressions flash through his brain.  Green eyes, freckles, wide shoulders, and holy shit his smile.  How is that kind of smile even allowed to exist?

The man waves, and comes a few steps into the room.  “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I’m a little lost and was hoping you could help me find my way?”

Ugh, and his voice is gorgeous too.  

He blinks a few times and the vision in front of him doesn’t fade away, which means this is a real person asking him a real question.  Pulling himself together, Jimmy returns the man’s friendly smile.  “I hope I can too.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to slap his own face for that one.  Could he sound any more twitterpated?  Doubtful.  Tall, Tan, and Too Gorgeous To Exist is going to think he’s a freak.

Any hope that the man missed his flirty tone dissolves when green eyes light up with something warm and inviting.  But he doesn’t address Jimmy’s flirting directly.  “I’m new around here, and I can’t find room 22W.  Think you could give me directions?” His smile widens.  “Or maybe show me?  I have a terrible sense of direction.”

The room he’s looking for is in another building, and if Jimmy walks him there, he’ll be late for his own class.  He should just give him directions, and send him on his way.  He could even put in a little extra effort and draw him a map.  

Or he can go for a walk with a handsome man.

Jimmy turns to the whiteboard and grabs a green marker.  Seems appropriate since it’s suddenly his favorite color.  He scrawls a note to his class telling them he’ll be a few minutes late, and then joins the man at the door.  “I’ll show you where it’s at.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Novak.  Professor.”  Jimmy winces, and holds out his hand.  “Jimmy.”

The man’s hand is slightly larger than his own, and callused instead of soft like a scholar’s.  It’s warm against Jimmy’s own, sending a pleasant zing of energy through his arm, up to his elbow.  Only long years of practice at ignoring the sensation allows him to hold in the shudder that builds up inside him when he feels it.

“Dean Winchester.” He pauses, his eyes twinkling.  “Also a professor.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen.  “You’re the new guy?”

Dean nods.  “So it would seem.  Hence why I haven’t figured my way around yet.”

The gentle reminder startles Jimmy out of his fascination with the man.  He let’s go of Dean’s hand, instantly missing the soft surge of his energy, and gestures for him to follow.  “I only just heard about you this morning.  I’m surprised there wasn’t an announcement earlier.”

“It was kinda last minute for me.  Crowley’s been trying to get me in here for years.  He finally found the right bribe.”

“What bribe would that be?” Jimmy asks as he leads Dean outside, holding the door open for him.  The sun is already warming the air, and the cloudless sky promises a beautiful day.  Dean easily matches his long strides as they cross the commons to the West building.  

“Access to the restricted section of the library,” Dean says absently.  He’s looking around the square, picking out the different buildings, probably memorizing the layout for future reference.  He turns a sunbeam smile on Jimmy, nearly blinding him with its brightness.  “Well no wonder I got lost, if I was wandering around the wrong building.”

Jimmy wants to ask about why Dean needs access to the restricted books, but decides not to pry for now.  If Dean is going to be spending a lot of the time in the library, he’ll definitely meet Castiel, and Jimmy can get the information from him.  Cassie may not like to gossip, but Jimmy knows exactly how to convince him to talk.  

Besides, he can’t resist flirting.  “Well on the bright side, it brought you to my room.”

His heart flutters when Dean’s smile turns wicked.  “Maybe I’ll have to stop by your room in the future.”

Oh goodness, he doesn’t sound like he’s talking about Jimmy’s classroom.  

“Yes, please.”

Fuck, he said it out loud.

And from Dean’s expression, he clearly understands that Jimmy isn’t talking about his classroom either.  His tongue peeks from between his lips, wetting them, and drawing Jimmy’s eyes.  “Well, I’ll keep that invitation in mind,” he murmurs.  But then he clears his throat and visibly turns down the smoulder before looking up at the building they’re standing outside of.  “So I think I can find my way from here.  You probably ought to get back before your students decide not to wait around for you.”

Suppressing a sigh over the loss of such interesting company, Jimmy nods.  “You’re right, I should.”  He holds his hand out again, eager to feel Dean’s energy again.  “It’s nice meeting you, Professor Winchester.”

“Likewise, Professor Novak.”  Dean takes his hand, but not to shake.  With a twirl of the free fingers of his free hand, he conjures a pen.  Jimmy is just as capable of casual magic as well, but he still gets a little shiver when he sees Dean do it, especially because he can feel a surge in Dean’s energy when he calls the power to him to perform the trick.  The pen tip tickles against Jimmy’s palm, but he holds perfectly still while Dean writes ten digits across his skin.  Jimmy can’t help but imagine feeling Dean’s warm palm sliding over other parts of his body, the energy of his soul prickling through his touch.  

Dean twirls the pen, and it disappears into the ether, and he looks up at Jimmy and winks.  “Feel free to use that.  Preferably soon.  We can get coffee.  Or something.”

Then he disappears inside without a backwards glance.  Jimmy looks down at the phone number on his palm, memorizing it for later.  He grins as he curls his fingers around it.  Oh yes, he’ll be using it.  Probably to jack off later.  

The thought of getting ink on his dick makes him laugh when he turns to go back to his own building.

***

Following his inner senses, Castiel slowly steps between the stacks, feeling the twinge of incorrect that indicates a preservation spell that needs renewal.  It’s weak enough that he can’t walk straight to it and he wanders through the shelves, letting his fingers trail across the spines of ancient tomes as he passes by.  The embossed leather gives him a warm and calm feeling that he’s tried many times to describe to Jimmy, but his dear brother insists on calling warm fuzzies.  They are both masters of languages, both living and dead, but Jimmy has always been better at expressing himself, so Castiel allows that Jimmy’s description is probably the best anyway.

He finally locates the book that needs his attention.  The protective barrier, visible to his Sight, has started to crumble.  Thankfully there is no damage to the book.  His meticulous care of the ancient and priceless treasures of the University’s expansive library means that the spell has maybe only started to decay in the last day or two.  

After plucking it from the shelf, he cradles it between his hands and closes his eyes.  His inner Sight follows the intricate lines of magic laced around the tome, searching for the weak link.  Once he finds it, he concentrates on pushing power into it until it firms up and reseals.  Then he flips it open to a random page and traces the arcane symbols on the velum with a fingertip.  His lips curve up in a smile.  Beautiful.

A tingle starts at the base of his spine and works its way up each vertebrae, bringing his head up.  It only takes a twisting of his concentration to see through the physical barriers of the books and shelves between him and the person entering the library’s restricted area.  His smile widens when he sees his twin’s familiar aura, colors flickering through spectrums invisible to the human eye, and even to most magic users.

“Cas?”

“Back here, Jimmy.”  Castiel replaces the book on the shelf, patting it with affection and silently promising to come back and read it later.  He makes his way through the maze of shelves and meets his brother halfway, letting his Sight retreat so he can view his brother through his physical eyes.

Jimmy greets him with a brilliant smile and a peck on the lips, that turns into a second, longer kiss.  Castiel hums into his mouth, leaning in until their chests press together and he can feel the way their hearts beat in tandem.  Jimmy’s lips are soft, and taste like his favorite soda, which makes Castiel kiss him one more time to chase the flavor.

“What brings you here?” Castiel asks when they finally part.  He doesn’t look around to see if they have an audience.  Few people have access to the restricted area, and Castiel would sense anyone nearby.

His brother chuckles and reaches up to smooth Castiel’s hair down since he has a tendency to ruffle it up throughout the day by running his fingers through it.  “It’s lunch time.  Did you forget again?”

“Of course not.”  

It’s a lie and they both know it.  Jimmy may not have the ability to see into others as deeply as Castiel does, but he knows Castiel as well as he knows himself.  

“Of course not,” Jimmy echoes with a teasing smile.  He takes Castiel’s hand and leads him out of the stacks into the common area of the library.  Students are scattered among the tables, heads down over their work and ignoring the brothers.  They’re used to the twins’ odd closeness, as is anyone who has been at the University for very long.  Jimmy finds an empty table and urges Castiel into a chair before sitting next to him, angling his own chair so their knees are pressed together.  “Well, I brought you something to eat anyway.”

He taps his ring finger in a five point pattern on the table’s surface, and then squeezes the tips of all his fingers together, pulls up.  Even with his Sight closed off, Castiel can see the magic swirl around Jimmy’s fingers and a plate of sliced cheese, apples, and butter crackers appears on the table.  Repeating the action with a different pattern, he conjures a bottle of Dr. Pepper and scoots it closer to Castiel.  He takes one of the apple slices and crunches it between his teeth, smiling as he chews, pleased with himself.

Refusing to respond to his brother’s silent teasing, Castiel takes the bottle and twists off the cap.  “Thank you, Jimmy.  Although there’s not supposed to be food or drink in the library.”  He softens the scolding by taking a long swallow of the spicy soda.  Now that he’s actually putting something in his stomach, he realizes he’s starving.  

Jimmy shrugs, unrepentant as usual.  He makes a tiny stack of cheese and crackers.  “I have an in with the Head Archivist.”  He winks at Castiel.  “He totally loves me.”

“Hmph.”  Castiel takes a slice of crisp green apple and sharp yellow cheese, and bites into them together.  He stares fondly at his twin as he chews, admiring the pulse and shimmer of his aura, and speaks only after he’s swallowed.  “What a fool.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, but shows slightly better manners by waiting until he’s done chewing before he speaks.  “So I met the new guy today.”

Despite himself, Castiel perks up with curiosity.  He manages to keep his eyes on his food, and keep his voice even, though he knows Jimmy won’t be fooled.  “Oh?”

His brother leans closer and lowers his voice, but it’s edged with excitement.  “You’ll be happy to hear he’s not a demon.”

“Hm, very happy.”  Castiel has nothing against demons.  He gets along quite well with Meg who works under him in the library, although he will never understand why she always calls him Clarence.  And her flirting is amusing, even if they both know that he’ll never respond to it in any meaningful way.  He tolerates Crowley, but his dislike for that particular demon is rooted in personality clashes, and has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a demon.

“Also, I think he wants to fuck me.”

Castiel sips his soda, and eyes his brother curiously.  “Oh?”

Jimmy holds his palm out, where a phone number is written in smudged ink.  “I think I want to.  The guy is smoking hot, Cas.”

“Well then, you should.”  Castiel frowns when he sees some of the excitement drain from his brother’s eyes.  He’s not sure why Jimmy is always trying to make him jealous.  Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the Sight and can’t look into Castiel’s heart and see the absolute love and loyalty Castiel holds for him.  

Despite the risk of being seen Castiel cups Jimmy’s jaw, shaven smooth unlike his own, and leans forward until their foreheads touch.  He catches his twin’s eyes with his own, and holds them, putting all the warmth he feels for the other half of his soul into his expression, and willing it to transfer through the skin to skin contact.  He sends his thoughts directly to Jimmy instead of speaking them aloud, because there can be no hidden meaning in mind to mind communication.

I love you, my dearest brother.  Always.

Jimmy puffs out a relieved breath against Castiel’s lips, and his smile shines from his eyes.  He doesn’t need to answer for Castiel to understand that he feels the same.

Sitting back, Castiel lets his fingers slide from Jimmy’s skin in a tender caress then turns his attention back to his lunch.  He doesn’t need to look around to know that some of the students are eyeing them with sour judgement.

Fuck them.

Let them judge.  He takes great pleasure in knowing that they’ll never experience the bond he shares with his brother.  It’s far and beyond what any of them could imagine it to be anyway.  

“So aside from making a conquest, how has your day been?” Castiel asks out loud.  

Assured once again of Castiel’s love, Jimmy breaks into a story about a student who mispronounced something so badly, he may have accidentally hexed himself.  Castiel listens intently, forgetting all about the University’s new professor.  

***

“Dean, are you alright?”

His brother’s worried question makes Dean immediately drop his hand from the mark burning under his sleeve.  It’s always a sure indicator that he’s not, in fact, alright.  “I’m fine, dude.”

Hoping that’s the end of the discussion, he returns his focus to the document on his laptop screen.  Or at least he tries.  The words blur, and the itch on his arm increases the more he ignores it.  With a sigh, he leans back in his chair and turns to look at his brother, who is giving him A Look.  Dean scowls at him, but concedes “okay, I’m not fine.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”  Sam always offers, even though he knows the answer is always no.

Dean needs to burn off some energy, and there’s only two ways to do that.  Fucking or fighting.  He’s not doing the former with his brother, and the latter leads down a dangerous road.  But if he doesn’t let Sam do something for him, his little brother is going to follow him around with sad, worried eyes, and that’s only going to amp up Dean’s irritation.  So he waves a hand at his laptop.  “Wanna read this over and see if I missed something while I go raid the fridge?”

It’s something his brother is able to do easily, and he’s eager as well.  So Dean lets him have his seat, and makes his way to the kitchen.  He’s not really hungry for food, but a session with his hand, or with the punching bag in the bunker’s gym doesn’t sound satisfying either.  

He’s just entering the kitchen when his phone buzzes in his pocket.  He pulls it out and it’s an unfamiliar number.  Normally he’d let it go to voicemail, but he’s restless and curious, so he answers it with a swipe of his thumb and puts it up to his ear.  “Hello?”

“Hey Dean, it’s Jimmy.”

A smile spreads across Dean’s face, and he stops in the center of the room, no longer interested in food.  “Hey, Jimmy.  I didn’t expect a call so soon.”

There’s a scoff on the other end of the line.  “That seventy-two hour rule is bullshit.  I don’t play those kind of games.”

Dean laughs, delighted with Jimmy’s forwardness.  He’d been intrigued when the man immediately flirted with him, because hello Hot Professor, and he’s getting the impression that he’s not going to have to play the mating game with this guy just to get in his pants.  “Awesome.  Me either.”

“Good.  Because I know you said you’d like to get together for coffee, but I have something else in mind.”

“Oh?”  Dean can’t hide the eager curiosity in his voice.  Usually he has to play it cool, but Jimmy is already ahead of him.

“I’m not going to pussyfoot around, Dean.  I’m in the mood to get laid.  You in?”

Hell-to-the-yes.  “Your place or mine?”

“Your place, if you don’t mind.  I don’t want to disturb my brother.”

Dean laughs again.  “I don’t mind.  My brother might, but I don’t give a shit about disturbing him.”

“We could get a motel if you want?”

“Nah, come on over.  My brother really won’t mind.  We’ve got thick walls and our rooms are on opposite sides of the place.”  The itch under his skin increases with his excitement.

He gives Jimmy directions to the bunker, and when he hangs up he does a little fist pump.  When he turns to leave the kitchen, no longer interested in food, he finds Sam leaning against the doorjamb.  

Sam’s lips twitch with a wry smile.  “Should I make myself scarce?”

“I’m not gonna fuck him on the table,” Dean promises.  He winks at his brother.  “I can make it to my room first.”

“Thank god for small favors,” Sam teases.  He points a finger at Dean, and makes a stern face.  His voice drops in a mockery of Dean’s.  “Make good choices.”

Dean responds with a grin and a middle finger held up high.  

***

Every step Jimmy takes on his way from his car to the house he shares with his twin makes him seriously empathize with Jello.  He doesn’t exactly have a tame sex life, but fucking around with Dean is certainly an exercise in endurance, and his wobbly muscles are a nice side effect.  He’s probably going to be sore in some places tomorrow.

Even though he told Castiel not to wait up, the windows glow with golden light.  When he opens the door, he finds his brother curled up in the corner of their ugly, yet incredibly comfortable couch, reading a book that looks older than time.  It’s so big it completely covers Castiel’s lap, and Jimmy wonders how it doesn’t cut off the circulation from his thighs down.

Castiel looks up from his treasure, no doubt pilfered from the restricted section of the library he maintains.  He smiles warmly, and shuts the book, setting it aside before he unfolds from the red and purple paisley cushions.  He seems to glide across the room, graceful in a way that only Jimmy gets to witness, and he greets Jimmy with a kiss.  Castiel’s gentle energy seeps into him through the touch of their lips.

His brother makes a small hum, and leans closer, cupping Jimmy’s cheeks.  “You had a good time.”

Hell yeah he did.  And his evening is only getting better now that Castiel is invading his personal space.  “How can you tell?”

Castiel nips Jimmy’s bottom lip.  “You smell like sex.”

Warm hands slip up under the hem of Jimmy’s untucked shirt, trailing goosebumps behind the touch.  They slide up his belly, pushing the shirt higher, and Jimmy shivers.  He’d been exhausted when he left Dean’s place, but now he feels energy returning to his muscles, transferred from his twin through touch.  He’d felt the same from Dean as well, but it was different.  Brighter, sharper.  Hot and electric instead of the gentle warm breeze of Castiel’s energy.

“Would you like to know what happened?” Jimmy asks.  He grips Castiel’s hips and pulls their bodies flush.  Castiel is wearing a t-shirt and loose yoga pants that ride low, and Jimmy teases the exposed skin between them with his thumbs.

“Yes.”

“Well…” Jimmy starts walking Castiel backwards toward their shared bedroom.  “He showed me around his house.”

“Oh?  Was it nice?”  Castiel’s nimble fingers are working at the buttons of Jimmy’s shirt.  His trust in Jimmy’s ability to guide him is complete, and he stares into Jimmy’s eyes, completely absorbed with his story.

“Honestly, I wasn’t paying too much attention.”  Jimmy grins.  “It was hard to care when he had his tongue in my mouth most of the time.”

Castiel’s eyes darken, and drop to Jimmy’s lips.  One hand comes up to touch his swollen bottom lip.  “What was that like?”

Jimmy shows him, kissing Castiel deep and slow.  He nibbles and sucks at his lips, remembering how rough Dean’s kisses had been.  Only at first though.  When Jimmy had been breathless and loose limbed, and they’d finally made it to Dean’s room, Dean had gone gentle.  Kissing him with reverence.  Like Jimmy was someone special, and not just a booty call.  It had confused him, but also excited him in a way that he rarely experiences with anyone but Castiel.

When he lifts his lips from Castiel’s, his twins eyes are hooded and dark, and a smile spreads slowly across his face.  “That’s how he kissed you?”

Jimmy nods.

Castiel sighs out.  “Show me more.”

The memory of Dean’s hands guides Jimmy’s.  He works to shed both their clothes, stopping to tweak Castiel’s sensitive nipples, and scratch along his ribs.  When they’re both naked, he presses down on Castiel’s shoulders, forcing him to his knees.  Castiel’s lips are parted and damp, his breath coming fast and ragged.  He stares up at Jimmy like he’s the sky, the only thing he loves more than his books.

He pauses in his replay of his experiences with Dean, and runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair, brushing it back from his forehead.  “I love you, Castiel.”

“I doubt Dean said that to you,” Castiel deadpans.  His jokes are rare, but always make Jimmy laugh with delight.

Taking his dick in hand, he guides it to Castiel’s lips.  His grip in Castiel’s hair keeps him from moving forward to swallow him down because he’s still demonstrating Dean’s actions.  He was rough when he had Jimmy on his knees.  Pulling his hair until his scalp stung and tears prickled in his eyes.  He teased Jimmy’s lips with the head of his dick, smearing his lips with precome.  Jimmy does the same to his brother now, licking his own lips at the sight of Castiel’s lips wet and swollen.

“He didn’t, no,” Jimmy concedes.  “He told me he couldn’t wait to put his cock in my mouth.”

Castiel moans, and pulls against Jimmy’s grip on his hair.  When his movement is stymied, he gives Jimmy a mild glare.  

“Do you want to know what his cock was like?” Jimmy asks.  

Castiel’s answer is a breathy hiss that may be yes, but is definitely agreement.

“God, it was magnificent, Cas.  Long, and thick.  Cut, sadly.”  He chuckles when Castiel pouts.  They’re both uncut, and sympathise with men who had to suffer circumcision.  “But oh man, I had to open my mouth so wide-” he tugs Castiel forward and guides the head of his dick between his pink lips, “-to suck his cock.  My jaw is still a little sore.”

Castiel’s eyes slip closed and he hums around Jimmy’s dick.  He’s absolutely amazing at giving head, but he’s had many years of practice to do it just the way Jimmy likes it.  Jimmy likes to think that Castiel taught him everything he knows, and he used all those tricks tonight on Dean.  But he wonders for the first time if there’s something different in their techniques.  If Dean would love the hot suction of Castiel’s mouth the way Jimmy does.  

For a brief moment he imagines watching Castiel do this for Dean.  He’s seen his brother on his knees before him more times than he can count, but he’s never seen him kneel for another man.  What would that be like?  Seeing Castiel from a new angle.  Seeing his dark lashes against his cheeks from the side instead of from above.  Watching his jaw and throat work around Dean’s thick length, and the drool and precome leaking from his bottom lip to dribble down his chin.  

He remembers looking up at Dean from that position.  Watching his stomach muscles flex, and his chest heave.  His green eyes dark with lust, and admiration.  Jimmy had preened under his approving smile.  He’d whimpered around the cock stretching his jaw when Dean had pet his hair and praised him.  

Would Dean do the same for Castiel?  Would he scratch Castiel’s scalp and tell him how beautiful he is while on his knees?  Jimmy wants to see that.  To see Dean petting and praising Castiel, and treating him as gently and sweetly as he’d treated Jimmy.  And then to see him lose himself in sensation and start fucking his face.  

Jimmy tightens his grip in Castiel’s hair and starts thrusting into his mouth, slowly at first but as he feels Castiel’s throat relax around him, he gets rougher.  His own throat still aches from when Dean had done the same to him earlier, and he relishes the hurt when he swallows a mouthful of spit.  

He could come like this.  Castiel would let him fuck his face, and swallow down every drop of come.  He’d smile up at Jimmy and tell him he loves him.  And he would ask for nothing else in return.  His sex drive is different from Jimmy’s.  He experiences arousal only with Jimmy, and often doesn’t care to chase his own pleasure.  Giving pleasure to Jimmy makes him happy, even if he doesn’t have an orgasm himself.  Even if he’s hard and leaking, sometimes he’ll brush Jimmy’s touch away and pull him close and rut against him until his erection goes down.  

Castiel’s orgasms are a precious gift, and Jimmy treasures them when they happen.  Even if Castiel himself is indifferent to them.  

He wants to try for it tonight.  Sex with Dean had been incredibly satisfying, and Jimmy wants to share that with Castiel.  To transfer that pleasure from himself to his twin.  

Which means he’s going to have to cut this blowjob short because he can already feel his balls tightening up in warning.  Pulling Castiel off with his grip in his hair, Jimmy can’t help but laugh at his brother’s pout.  He thumbs across Castiel’s cheekbones, soothing his irritation at being interrupted.  “I want to show you what happened next.”

Castiel brightens.  His words are slurred through swollen lips.  “Yes, please.”

With gentle hands, Jimmy coaxes Castiel up from his knees.  Then he turns him around and nudges him toward the bed.  He watches the feather shaped marks on Castiel’s back and shoulders flex as he moves.  Despite the fact that they are two dimensional, they seem to fluff up as he crawls toward the head of the bed, the magic imbued in the sepia lines giving them the illusion of movement.  

Would Dean want to pet them as Jimmy often does?

He hopes so.  Dean seemed to enjoy running his hands over Jimmy’s skin, stroking him and soothing him as if he were timid about what they were doing.  He was far from it.  Eager and excited and impatient were better descriptors.  But he’d still enjoyed the sweetness of Dean’s touch after his earlier roughness.

So does Castiel if the purring noises he’s making are any indication.  Jimmy murmurs orders for him to stay up on his hands and knees, and then massages him from the shoulders down.  When he reaches the globes of Castiel’s ass, he squeezes them tight, spreading them wide and revealing his tight pink hole.  It flexes under his gaze, inviting him to touch.  He wants to dive right in and kiss it, but he’s still showing Castiel what he’d experienced with Dean and that hadn’t been on tonight’s agenda.

“Dean taught me a really neat spell,” Jimmy says conversationally as he presses his thumbs into the muscles of Castiel’s ass, stretching the skin wide.  He grins when Castiel’s muscles relax, opening slightly in anticipation.  He rarely has to put much work into prepping Castiel for sex.  His body actively welcomes Jimmy’s.  But lubrication is still required.  

Whispering the words Dean had used earlier, Jimmy lifts one hand from Castiel’s ass.  He cups it and a glow grows in his palm, coalescing into a clear lubricant that is already body temperature.  

Castiel looks over his shoulder with wide eyes.  “Is that Phoenician?”

Jimmy dribbles the lube from his palm over Castiel’s tailbone, watching with fascination as it dribbles down and catches against creased skin.  “Uh huh.”

“Impressive.”

“So was his pronunciation.  I might ask him to sit in and assist with my class next semester if he has the time.”

He circles Castiel's hole with the pad of his thumb, then pushes inside.  Castiel's soft groan is lovely music to his ears, and he thrusts his thumb in deeper to get him to make the noise again.  Then he pulls out, letting his thumb catch on the rim so he can pull it wide.  He lets the rest of the lube dribble in then spears two fingers in after it, spreading it around.

Dean had spent quite a bit of time fingering Jimmy's ass, making soft noises of approval.  He'd avoided Jimmy's prostate at first, playing with his rim instead.  Pulling and stretching, which Jimmy had appreciated when Dean had finally slipped on a condom and started pushing his dick in.

Jimmy doesn't bother using a condom with Castiel, but he does pull his fingers out and use the last of the lube to slick himself up before sinking into his body.  Slow and careful like Dean had been.

"He stretched me open so wide," Jimmy says softly as he nudges deeper.  "I wish you could feel it the way I did."

"You're perfect," Castiel murmurs.  His head is tilted up, his eyes closed.  A pretty flush spreads across his cheeks, and Jimmy knows from experience that it reaches all the way to his nipples.

"So are you," Jimmy responds in a voice made shaky by how much he means it.  He drapes himself over Castiel’s back and starts thrusting his hips slow and steady, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in again.  “I want to make you come tonight, Castiel.  Please.”

Fingers dig into Jimmy’s hair, pulling his face into the dip behind Castiel’s neck.  “Okay.”

Jimmy groans into his brother’s skin and picks up the pace, still fucking him in deep strokes.  Muscles sore from straining against Dean’s larger body start to warm back up, either from the exercise or from his own innate ability to heal slightly faster than the average human.  Probably a little of both.

Beneath him, Castiel is making soft huffing noises, interspersed with tiny whines and whimpers as the head of Jimmy’s dick slides over and past his prostate.  He starts rocking back, meeting Jimmy’s thrusts.  Since he’s still propped up by only one arm, Jimmy wraps an arm around his waist, guiding his movements and holding him up.  The slap of their skin increases and sounds of pleasure start slipping from Jimmy’s lips as well.

Castiel’s hand disappears from Jimmy’s hair, and the slick sound of his fist around his dick joins the cacophony of sex sounds.  He gasps, and drops his head between his shoulders, baring the back of his neck to Jimmy’s mouth.  

“Harder, Jimmy,” Castiel gaps.

It’s an order he’s eager to obey.  His thrusts become shallow, rougher.  He changes the angle of his grip around Castiel’s belly, angling his hips up, and grinning against feather-marked skin when Castiel’s whines go up in pitch.

Despite the fact that he’s already had an orgasm earlier in the evening, Jimmy can feel the heat building in his belly.  He concentrates on holding back, determined to bring his brother to orgasm first.  

“Tell me,” Castiel gasps, “tell me something else about Dean.”

“He… he-” Jimmy gasps when Castiel clenches around him.  “Uhn… his hands.”

“What about them?” When Jimmy doesn’t answer for a moment, Castiel bucks under him.  “Jimmy, what about his hands?”

“Calluses.  God his hands are rough, and felt-” he can feel the heat building.  He’s so close, god so close.  

And he doesn’t think he can control his tongue anymore, so he reaches down with the hand cupping Castiel’s belly and wraps it around his brother’s moving fist.  He squeezes, and Castiel let’s out a low wail.  And then he’s coming, spilling over both twined fingers, and all over the sheets below them.  He clenches down on Jimmy’s dick, and his back arches, and Jimmy barks out his twin’s name just as he starts to come as well.  

As one, they collapse to the bed on their sides.  Jimmy’s dick is dislodged in the movement, making him wince, but it’s worth it when Castiel arches into him like a pleased cat.  His animagus form may be that of an owl, but he acts like a feathered feline most of the time.

Castiel laces their dirty fingers together and lifts them to his mouth.  He licks at the slippery mess, and hums sleepily.  Jimmy’s sure he’ll be asleep within minutes.

“That was very nice,” Castiel murmurs between licks.  “I’m glad you had fun with him.”

“Dean is nice,” Jimmy mumbles.  He rubs his face against Castiel’s shoulder blade.  They’d talked for a while as their bodies cooled down from the sex.  Mostly about their work.  Dean’s speciality is curses, and he’s teaching classes on how to research old curses to break them.  “You’ll probably get to know him too.  He’s doing research on a new publication and will be using the restricted section of the library.”

“Crowley gave him access?”

“Apparently they’re old friends.”

Castiel hums thoughtfully.  Then after a moment, asks “do you think you’ll sleep with him again?”

“If he asks.”

The smile is evident in Castiel’s voice, as well as the imminent sleep overtaking him.  “Good.  I’m looking forward to it.”

Jimmy grins against Castiel’s skin.  He is too.

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

With one last confident stroke of chalk, Dean finishes the sigil.  He turns to his class, standing to the side so they can all get a good view of the chalkboard.  “As you can see,” he gestures to the left oval cutting through the Eye of Ra at the center of the warding, “this mark here added as the second component not only cancels out the hex, it turns it inward.  When building a curse box for most items, the order this symbol is drawn in is crucial.”  He scans the young faces in front of him and is pleased to see more curiosity than confusion.  “Questions?”

Several hands go up, but not as many as he expected.  It takes the rest of the period to go through them, as well as a few follow up questions prompted by his answers.  A few students stop at his desk to ask him for details on the paper due next week, and then he's left blessedly alone.

He blows out a shaky breath and leans back against the chalkboard, uncaring whether he gets chalk all over his shirt.  At least they're both white.  He rubs his face with both hands, pressing against his eye sockets with the heels of his hands until lights flash behind his lids.  It does nothing to ease his growing headache, and since he doesn't have Sight he's pretty sure the colorful auras he’s been seeing around everything for the last hour are definitely a sign that this migraine is going to be a doozy.

Maybe it'll distract him from the burn under his skin.  

Acknowledging the burn makes it pulse hotter, and he hisses a curse.  The four letter kind, since a real curse could do some actual damage.

“Dean?  Are you okay?”

When Dean drops his hands he has to blink a few times to clear his vision, but he smiles anyway at the sound of his guest's voice.  “Hey, Jimmy.  What's up, man?”

Jimmy had stopped just inside the classroom doorway, but now he comes in, his blue eyes soft with concern.  “I just wanted to see if you were busy on your off period,” he says as he approaches.  “You don’t look like you feel very well.”

“Headache,” Dean says with a shrug.  “I’ll be fine.”  

“Are you sure?” Jimmy lays a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and peers up at him.  “Have you taken anything for it yet?”

Dean sighs, and tries not to lean into the touch.  He blinks a few more times, and the halos in his vision recede a little, along with the burn under his skin.  “I probably should, but I don’t think I have anything with me.”

“Come down to my office.” Jimmy tilts his head toward the door.  “I’ve got some Ibuprofen in my desk, and a quiet place for you to rest while it kicks in.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”  Dean allows himself to be nudged into motion, and follows Jimmy out into the hall.  

They walk side by side down the corridor, which is crowded with students going to and from classes.  Dean carefully avoids brushing against anyone he passes, which moves him closer to Jimmy.  Every so often the backs of their hands touch, and each time it happens Dean feels something loosen inside him.  

By the time they reach the building Jimmy’s office is in, he’s actually starting to feel much better.  He’s no longer seeing auras around things, and his skin doesn’t feel too tight for his body.  His head still hurts, but it feels like regular eye strain instead of the harbinger of a migraine.  

That doesn’t stop him from accepting the pills Jimmy gives him, and he downs them along with half a bottle of water that Jimmy conjures for him.  When he lowers the bottle, Jimmy is staring at his lips.  So of course he licks them, and chuckles when Jimmy’s stare intensifies.

“Did you lure me in here to take advantage of me?”

Jimmy steps a little closer, and rests his hands on Dean’s hips.  He guides Dean backwards until his thighs bump against the edge of the desk that takes up most of the free space in the little office, and continues pushing until Dean sits down on it.  Then he makes himself comfortable between Dean’s thighs.

Well alrighty then.  Headache officially forgotten.

He watches Jimmy’s face, taking in all the little details of his expression.  The way he wets his lips, and the way his blue eyes flicker over Dean’s face.  The twitch at the edge of his mouth that’s almost a smile, but mostly a smirk.  The way his nose crinkles slightly, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.  Dean remembers the first time he saw Jimmy.  How sexy he thought the other teacher was.  Up close like this, seeing the laugh lines around his eyes, and the hints of a five o’clock shadow, Dean realizes that he’s also just… handsome.  

Dean likes looking at him.  Just for the hell of it.

It’s nice.  He doesn’t usually let himself look this closely.  Seeing the person behind the sexual attraction is a luxury.  It’s also a sign that it may be time to cut things with Jimmy short.  

They’ve already had sex a few times.  Good sex.  Really good sex.  Jimmy is adventurous and so far has been able to keep up with Dean’s heightened appetites, which is why Dean is reluctant to put an end to their fooling around.  It’s been nice having a regular fuck buddy he can just call up and invite over who leaves Dean feeling sated and relaxed, and doesn’t stick around long afterwards.  

Not that Dean would mind if he did.  Maybe not overnight, but maybe for a quick meal afterwards.  Or maybe an episode of Doctor Sexy.  But Jimmy always insists on getting home right away so his brother doesn’t worry about him being late.

When their fling ends, Dean wants to still be friends with the guy.  Especially since they’ll be working together.  It would be easy to avoid him since they work in different buildings, but Dean likes Jimmy and would hate to have a potential friend turn into some guy that he avoids constantly.  

Jimmy interrupts Dean’s thoughts by lifting his hands up and cupping Dean’s head.  His thumbs rest over Dean’s temples, and start rubbing in gentle circles.  The rest of his fingers massage Dean’s skull and the very top of his neck.  

Tension Dean didn’t realize he was holding in his shoulders immediately starts to melt away, and his eyes slip shut.  Ooooh… that’s nice…

The sentiment comes out in a low moan instead of words.  Jimmy chuckles but doesn’t stop what he’s doing.  “Do you feel taken advantage of?”

“Mmm, totally,” Dean mumbles.  His eyelids feel heavy, but he doesn't want to stop looking at Jimmy so he resists letting them fall shut.  

Jimmy smiles, and Dean's internal organs do an odd shimmy.  It's not arousal, but it still feels good.  Which is something he thinks he should worry about.  Maybe he will after the massage.

It lasts several more minutes before Jimmy’s fingers go still and his hands slide down to cup Dean's cheeks.  Dean expects to be pulled into a kiss, but Jimmy just holds him.  “How do you feel now?”

Dean takes stock.  The ache is still lingering behind his eyes, but it's definitely fading.  He'd think Jimmy had worked some healing magic on him, but he knows what that feels like and there was no chilly tingle seeping from Jimmy's fingers. “Better.  I'm sure I'll survive the rest of the day now.”  He twists his head enough that he can kiss Jimmy's thumb.  “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”  Jimmy’s pupils dilate slightly, Dean's only warning before he leans in for a kiss.

Not that he's complaining.  Jimmy always tastes like Dr Pepper and Dean licks into his mouth, chasing the spicy sweetness.  Their tongues twine together for a moment before pulling back enough to allow them to suck and nibble at each other's lips.  There's no urgency behind the kiss, although it does cause Dean's heartbeat to kick up to a slightly faster tempo.

A distant part of him wonders what the hell they're doing, just making out with seemingly no intention from either of them to go any further.  Dean loves kissing, but he doesn't make out with people unless there's going to be sex involved soon.  But the nearly constant craving for physical satisfaction isn't bubbling up inside him.  Instead there is a deeper, quieter, but needier part of him that is waking up, unfurling behind his heart and basking in the warm content he feels sitting on the edge of Jimmy's desk and kissing and kissing and kissing until his lips tingle and time slips away from him.

A throat clearing followed by a knock on the door startles Dean, and the spike of adrenaline turns the edges of his vision red and causes a warning pulse of pain in his temples.  Both fade even before he turns to see a young man standing in the open doorway.  Only his head is visible, and he looks like he's using the sturdy wood panel of the door as a shield.

The kid's face pales, and he looks ready to take off running, which means Dean is probably giving him a death glare.  So Dean does his best to school his features.  Jimmy's hands drop from his face, and he immediately misses their warmth.

“What is it, Alfie?”

Alfie’s wide eyes linger on Dean for another half second before he turns his attention to Jimmy.  “I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor Novak.  I know it's not your office hours so I can come back later, I-”

“No, I should get going,” Dean interrupts.  He nudges Jimmy out from between his thighs and stands.  “Text me tonight, Professor Novak?”

Jimmy grins brightly, any disappointment at the interruption immediately erased by anticipation.  “Definitely.”

A frisson of excitement runs up Dean's spine and he can't help returning Jimmy's smile.  Without thought, he leans in and pecks the other professor on the mouth.  But he sure as hell thinks about the kiss on the way out of the office.

That had been… out of nowhere.  Or maybe not.  There had been genuine affection in the gesture.  Confusion tangles up inside him and he frowns.

“I've heard from very unreliable sources that your face could ‘freeze like that’ if you're not careful.”

The smarmy British accent makes Dean roll his eyes before turning to see his new boss sidle up to him.  He doesn't shorten his stride, making the other man stretch his legs to keep up.  “Crowley,” he greets dryly.

“Most of the staff calls me ‘Dean’,” Crowley points out.

Dean slants a glare at the demon.  “Yeah, I'm not calling you that.”

Crowley chuckles and concedes with a nod.  “I was going to ask how you're settling in here,” he says with a casual wave around them.  The halls are mostly empty since there are classes in session, but the occasional harried student rushes past them to unknown locations.  “But I see you're already making friends.”

“Jealous?” What had transpired between them in the past could hardly be called a relationship - more like hate fucking with a dash of reluctant friendship on the side.  But that doesn't mean Dean can't needle Crowley about it since they're in that nebulous space Sam jokingly terms as “frenemies”.

His jab is rewarded with a scoff.  “Of course not.  Even if Novak weren't just your fuck of the week, I have little interest in the details of your personal life.”

Dean’s grin is sharply malicious.  “Of course not,” he parrots.  He'll never admit it out loud, but he enjoys their antagonistic back and forth.  

He can tell by the glint in Crowley’s eyes when he glances up at Dean that he feels the same.

Frenemies indeed.

“It won't last long enough to become interesting,” Crowley drawls, sounding bored with the entire conversation.  “Either you'll tire of him and drop him like a hot stone-”

Dean snorts.  Yeah Crowley isn't jealous at all.

“-or he'll get bored with you and go back to his usual disgustingly deviant behavior.”

Dean nearly misses a step, and he glares at Crowley when he catches sight of his smirk.  “What the hell does that mean?”

But Crowley doesn't bother to answer.  “Have you had a chance to visit the library yet?” He asks breezily.  

“No, I've been busy.”  Dean glares harder, but Crowley doesn't even look at him.  “What did you mean about Jimmy?”

Crowley ignores the question again.  “You haven't?  But you were itching to get in there before.”  He finally looks up at Dean, and his eyes burn with wicked humor.  “Or is Professor Novak scratching a more important itch for you now?”

Rage rises up in Dean's throat and he barely holds back a threatening snarl.  Red creeps in around the edges of his vision and the mark under his sleeve tingles and burns unpleasantly.  So much for the mellow mood he'd been enjoying.  “You are a massive bag of dicks, you know that?”

“Flatterer.”  Crowley’s smile widens.  He knows he's pushing Dean's buttons.  And because he's a demon, he's enjoying the danger he's creating.

Dean really has no idea how the fuck someone like Crowley ended up as dean at The University.  “I've got twenty ways to kill you, Crowley.  Don't fucking push me.”

Crowley lets out a regretful sigh.  “As much as I enjoy all this flirting, I really don't have time to dilly dally around with you.  I have a University to run.”  He dips his head in Dean’s direction.  “Do let me know what you think of the library.  Be sure to introduce yourself to the head archivist.”

Between one blink and the next, Crowley is gone.  Dean clenches his fists, and takes a deep breath and expels it slowly in an attempt to rein in his temper.  Fucking demons, man.  

He briefly considers going back to Jimmy’s office and kicking the student out of the room so he can fuck out his current aggression, but he’s not that close to the edge.  He’s worked through much worse with nothing but an iron grip of self control.  At least his headache seems to have been wrangled into submission by the massage and the medicine Jimmy had given him.  He’ll be able to make it through the rest of day.

There’s still time to kill before his next class starts, and he should probably use it to make sure his lesson plan is put together.  But Crowley’s words, however obnoxious, did remind him that he’s been trying to find time to just visit the library.  He may not have time right now to poke around in the restricted section for long, but maybe it’ll distract him from thinking about whatever the fuck Crowley was implying about Jimmy.

Disgustingly deviant behavior?  When Dean scoffs a student rushing along the hall nearby gives him an odd look, but he ignores the kid and turns in the direction of the library.  Jimmy is adventurous in bed - really adventurous, he thinks as he fondly remembers one evening that involved using neck ties, bondage, and breathplay - but “disgustingly deviant”?  Dean and Crowley have done unspeakable things to triplets together… what the hell could Jimmy be into that would make Crowley start tossing out that kind of judgement?

He’s being ridiculous.  Crowley’s probably just messing with Dean because he’s jealous.  It wouldn’t be the first time.  And with that thought in mind, he pushes aside Crowley’s words, and continues his journey to the library, letting the anticipation build and imagining how much fun it’s going to be to remind his brother that he has access to the restricted section when Sam doesn’t.  

***

“So have you met the new guy yet?”

Castiel doesn’t look up from the spell he’s casting on the newest addition to the library’s collection.  The book is a copy, and fairly new compared to many of the treasures he guards, but he treats it as if it as precious as the original.  “I’m not sure who you’re referring to.”

The demon across the room snorts at him.  Meg picks up a paper from the desk and crumples it before throwing it at Castiel’s head.  It bounces off and rolls across the floor.  “Don’t be obtuse, Clarence.  You know I’m talking about your brother’s new dildo.”

That pulls his attention from his work and he lifts his head to pin her with a glare.  “Don’t be crude,” he admonishes.  With a flick of his wrist the wad of paper she threw floats up and over to the trash bin and falls inside.  

The image of her True Face flickers over her human visage, and she bares a mouth full of too many sharp teeth at him in an unrepentant grin.  “It’s true though.  Does it upset you that you’re not enough to satisfy your little brother?”

“A difference of seventeen minutes in our ages hardly makes him my “little brother’,” Castiel points out.  He goes back to his work, repressing a sigh.  Meg is his friend, but she can sometimes be cruel in her teasing.  That’s to be expected from a demon though.

She comes out from behind her desk and saunters over to his, bending down and propping her arms right next to the book he’s binding in a preservation spell.  Her breath smells like peanut butter when she leans close to speak into his ear.  “Come on, aren’t you just a teensy-weensy bit jealous?”

“No.”

“Really?  Because Professor Winchester is sex on a stick.”  Meg huffs a laugh and looks off into the distance.  “Hell, I’m jealous.  It’s not fair that your brother gets to dip his wick in that and come home to your pretty mouth.”

The spell seals under Castiel’s expert touch, and he finally looks up at Meg.  He considers her question seriously, even if she probably doesn’t mean for him to.  He could never be jealous of someone if Jimmy gives them his heart.  Castiel wants his brother’s happiness above all else, even if it means sharing him with someone else.  

“If Jimmy is happy, then I’m happy,” he says after a moment.

Meg slants him a look from the corner of her eye, and one side of her mouth tips up.  “You’re a sap.”  

He shrugs.  “Maybe.”

She stares at him consideringly for a long moment.  Apparently deciding he’s not worth teasing anymore, she goes back to her original subject.  “So you haven’t met him yet?”

Shaking his head, he conjures his notebook and a pen so that he can annotate the spell he just cast on the new book, adding the date and time, and the shelf he intends to store it on.  “No, but I expect to meet him soon.  He’s been given access to the restricted section.”

“Wow, he must be sitting on Crowley’s dick too.”

He pins her with another glare.  

This time it has some effect.  She straightens, holding her hands up defensively, even though her smirk is still firmly in place.  “Alright, alright, quit with the smitey-face.  I’m going back to work.”

She saunters back to her desk and makes a show of pulling a stack of returned books toward her and checking them back into the system.  Castiel watches her for another moment to make sure she’s really done pestering him, then banishes his paper and pen back to the ether and gathers up the new book.  It’s a simple book of Egyptian crop protection spells, so he carries it to the section of the library designated to agriculture.

He lets himself get lost in his work again.  Most students don’t bother him with questions because many of them are too intimidated by him to approach.  They have no reason to be wary of him, but he appreciates the lack of interruption.  

His concentration is broken when a chill crawls up his spine, making him inhale sharply, and his head whips toward the library’s entrance.  He’s deep within the maze of the stacks, but the shelves do nothing to hide the newcomer from his Sight.

He gasps again when his eyes land on the person walking slowly past the study tables on their way to the shelves.  Their aura shimmers gold, so bright that he has to squint against it even though it has no effect on his physical eyes.  It takes a moment for his Vision to adjust enough to focus on details.  

It’s a man, tall and broad shouldered, with a confident swagger enhanced by the small outward curve of his legs.  The golden light spreads around his body like arched wings.  As he comes closer, Castiel can see lines spiderwebbing through his aura.  They’re dark, ugly and rust red, like they’re drawn in dead blood.  But somehow they only enhance the glowing beauty of his soul. The jagged lines spread out from an angry wound in his arm that makes Castiel’s heart ache with sympathy for the pain it must cause him.

When his head begins to ache from staring into the sun-bright aura, Castiel blinks his physical eyes in an effort to close off his Sight.  It takes great effort because he feels like he could watch this man’s soul until it blinds him.  He stares at the leather and clothbound books between him and the man, and listens to the sound of his boots crossing to the checkout desk where Meg works.  

“Hey there, handsome.  What can I do for you?” Meg purrs.

Despite being in human form, Castiel feels as if his feathers are fluffing up in an aggressive display.  He’s been on the receiving end of her flirting enough to recognize when it’s directed at someone else.  Hearing it aimed at the stranger makes something bitter and angry twist deep in his stomach.  It’s a sensation he’s never felt before, and it confuses him.

“I was hoping I could take a peek at the restricted section.”  

The man’s voice is deep and rough, but kept light by the flirtation in his tone.  And to Castiel’s utter bewilderment, he feels a tiny zing of arousal at the sound.

“Well now, that requires special permission from the Boss.”

“My name’s Dean Winchester.  I should be on the list.”

Castiel’s eyes widen, and his breath catches in his chest.  That is Dean Winchester?

“Oh yeah, here you are.  Can I help you find anything?” Meg purrs.

Clenching his fists, Castiel just barely manages to stay where he’s at and not storm out of the bookshelves to scold her for her flirting.  

Dean’s warm chuckle makes Castiel’s mouth go dry.  “No, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”

The sound of boots against the hardwood floor snaps Castiel out of his daze.  They’re coming in his direction, and he is not prepared to meet Dean Winchester face to face.  He retreats deeper into the library, not paying attention to where he’s going, which turns out to be a mistake because he ends up in the restricted section, which is exactly where Dean is headed.  

The only way back will lead him directly to Dean.  He’s about to shift into his owl form to fly up into the rafters, but he’s too late.  

“Oh hey, I didn’t expect to find anyone back here.”

Castiel spins around, and gets his first look at Dean without the use of his Sight.  Green eyes, freckles, and a smile that lights up his whole face when he sees Castiel.  The smile glows almost as brightly as his aura, and Castiel’s breath comes out in a single syllable.  

Oh.”

Dean slows to a stop, confusion flitting across his expression.  His voice is hesitant when he speaks.  “...Jimmy?”  

Hearing his brother’s name brings Castiel back to himself.  He realizes he’s pressed back against the bookshelf behind him and he straightens.  “No, Jimmy is my brother.  My name is Castiel.”

Dean’s eyes widen with surprise, and then he grins.  “No shit?  I didn’t know you were twins.”  And then he laughs, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds Castiel has ever heard.  “I wondered how you’d gotten from your office to the library so fast.”  He gestures at Castiel.  “And the different clothes threw me off a bit too.”

In reflex, Castiel glances down at himself.  He’s wearing a simple white button down shirt with a blue tie and dark slacks.  Jimmy rarely wears a tie and tends to dress in more colors.  He often jokes about “showing off his plumage” since he can’t wear feathers the way Castiel does.  

“Yes,” Castiel says, “that must have been strange for you.”

Dean shrugs, his whole body shifting with the movement and making Castiel’s heart beat faster.  “Well we’re at The University.  Stranger things have probably happened.”

The way the skin crinkles around Dean’s jade-green eyes when he’s smiling fascinates Castiel.  As do the freckles splashed across his skin.  And the way his canines are slightly longer than the rest of his teeth.  And the dusting of stubble across his jaw, and the flecks of gold in his green eyes…

Dean interrupts Castiel’s cataloguing of all the miniscule features that build such a handsome face by holding out a hand.  “I’m Dean Winchester, by the way.”

Castiel’s eyes drop to Dean’s hand.  There are calluses indicating he’s familiar with the grip of weapons.  A white scar crosses his palm, a sure sign of a long time magic user since so many spells require blood spilled directly from the life-line.  The tips of his fingers are blunt, the nails short but well groomed and not jagged from chewing.  

He gets so caught up in the beauty of Dean’s hand, that he forgets to reach out and shake it.  When Dean drops it with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat, Castiel mentally kicks himself for making things awkward.  It’s not unusual behavior on his part, since he often gets caught up in his Sight the first time he meets someone.  But even with his inner eye closed against the brightness of Dean’s aura, he can’t help staring.  

“So, uh...” Dean shifts his weight from foot to foot and glances around at the books surrounding them.  “I don’t have much time ‘cause I have a class starting soon, but I was hoping to meet the head archivist.  Are they around?”

“I’m the head archivist,” Castiel says.

Dean’s eyes snap back to him.  For some reason his cheeks turn pink, and Castiel marvels at how the color brings out his freckles instead of drowning them out.  “Oh.  Uh, cool.”  He clears his throat again.  “I guess I’ll be seeing you a lot then.  I’ve got some research to do for a new publication, and I’ll be poking through the restricted section for some of it.”

A flutter of joy rises up inside Castiel, and the feathers hiding under his skin shift and fluff up.  He smiles warmly.  “If you need any assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Dean blinks at him, but then his smile is back, nearly as bright as his aura.  “Thanks, Cas.”

The shortening of his name is a surprise, but Castiel enjoys the informality of it.  Most of the students refuse to call him anything other than “Archivist”, and only a few members of the faculty, most notably Meg and Jimmy, ever dare use anything other than his full name.  Meg says it’s because he’s intimidating, although he isn’t sure he believes that since she’s never once been cowed by his presence.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel replies.  “I look forward to working with you.”

The pink highlighting Dean’s cheeks deepens, reaching the tips of his ears.  He takes a step back, and then another.  “Well I’d better get out of here.  Class soon, y’know.”  He backs up into the bookshelf, which doesn’t shift at all due to the powerful magic Castiel uses to protect them.  The impact seems to break Dean out of some kind of spell, and he shakes his head slightly and waves as he retreats from between the stacks.  “See you around, Cas.”

Castiel lifts his hand to return the gesture.  When Dean disappears around the end of the shelf, he opens his inner eye and watches the winged spectre of Dean’s aura as he weaves through the dimmer lights of the students seated throughout the study tables.  When Dean physically leaves the library Castiel deliberately turns away so he’s not tempted to track Dean through the entire campus.  He stares blindly at the spines of the books on the shelf in front of him, but all he sees is the afterimage of Dean’s soul.  It takes a long time to fade.

Notes:

Whoa another chapter already? Nifty! I doubt fast chapters happen much though. I have some of this already written, but it's going through a bunch of re-writes and stuff is getting moved around. But I was in the mood to poke at this today, and so here you go, have an update :D

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Despite the protection spells webbing throughout the building the library still smells like musty old books when Jimmy enters through the massive doorway.  He drags his fingers over the wood as he passes, the intricately carved details of the trees that seem to hold up the arch as familiar as the scent of paper and vellum.

He spent years studying at the same tables hosting the University's current batch of students, and he barely has to pay attention to where he's going as he passes between them.  Occasionally a student will lift their nose from their work and he'll smile encouragingly if they make eye contact, but most of them don't even register his presence.  Which is fine with him since he'd rather not be waylaid by questions or conversation at the moment.

He sees Meg at her usual post at the checkout desk and he waves at her on his way past.  She only acknowledges him with a smirk and a tilt of her head toward the library's restricted section, confirming without words that Castiel is hidden among the stacks.  

Jimmy has never really liked Meg, even though she's one of the few people that is friendly with his brother.  But even though she's fully aware of just how close the twins are she doesn't take part in the whispering behind their backs, so he grudgingly accepts her presence.  Especially since Castiel's circle of friends is so small.

It takes several minutes to find Castiel.  The magic buzzing around everything dulls his senses, making it difficult to follow the thread of their bond.  He eventually finds his brother idly fingering the spines of books of witchcraft that hold forbidden magic that only scholars and government officials are allowed to study.  

Castiel probably knows their content by heart, the nerd.

“Hey, Castiel,” Jimmy says softly as he comes up behind his twin and leans in to press a kiss against his cheek.  

The move startles Castiel making him twitch and turn a wide-eyed stare in Jimmy's direction.  The surprise is gone between one blink and the next, and he smiles, the small gentle twist of lips that always makes Jimmy feel ten feet tall.  “Hello.”

Jimmy frowns at Castiel's reaction, though.  Where his ability to sense other people is weak and mostly limited to physical contact, Castiel is extremely powerful.  He can see auras with no effort at all and can communicate mind to mind even with those who don't have any telepathy.  He'd admitted once that if he concentrated he could hear prayers and feel the emotion behind them.  Of the two of them he'd inherited the bulk of their father's powers, making him seem far less human than Jimmy despite the fact that they  share the same half-breed blood.

Which is why it's strange that Jimmy was able to sneak up on him.  Castiel could probably sense his location anywhere on campus with no more than a thought, and he always knows when someone passes through the barriers guarding the library's most dangerous and valuable treasures.

“Are you okay?”  He reaches up and strokes his fingers through the hair at Castiel's temple.

Castiel leans into it, his eyes drooping the same way they do when he's in owl form and Jimmy scratches through his feathers.  His smile widens and love shines from his eyes, settling Jimmy's disquiet.  “Of course,” he says softly. “Just distracted.  I met Dean today.”

“Okay yeah, that makes sense,” Jimmy says on a laugh.  “I was dazed by his beauty too.”

“He is beautiful,” Castiel breathes in awe.  “It's difficult to look at him.”  He reaches up and touches the the center of his forehead, and his eyes unfocus.  “It's rather like trying to look directly into the sun.”

Jimmy isn't jealous of Castiel's abilities.  In fact he thinks some of them might drive him mad, and he's not sure how Castiel survived until he could learn to control them.  But occasionally he's overcome with intense curiosity.  He's felt the warmth of Dean's aura, felt it envelope him when their bodies were joined, but he kind of wishes he could see it as Castiel does.  

“I was talking about his green eyes and freckles,” Jimmy teases.

Castiel drops his hand, and his smile widens with delight.  “He has so many freckles.”

“He has them all over his shoulders and arms too.”  An image of Dean’s body flashes in Jimmy’s mind, and he feels a tingle of arousal at the memory.  

“Really?”  Castiel’s voice turns wistful.  “I’d like to see that.”

The last is spoken barely above a whisper, but Jimmy starts as if Castiel had shouted the words.  It’s not that Castiel hasn’t ever expressed his appreciation for a person’s looks before, but he’s never spoken of a desire to see more of someone.  

Reaching up to touch the corner of Castiel’s smile, Jimmy searches his brother’s eyes.  “You would?”

Castiel’s eyes narrow, his head tilting as he tries to understand Jimmy’s question.  Realization dawns after a moment, and he smiles again.  “Yes, I would.  Isn’t that amazing?”

A spark of jealousy fades almost as soon as it appears.  Jimmy knows that no one can ever take his place in Castiel’s heart.  Instead, excitement takes hold of him instead.  “I could see if he'll let me take pictures,” he offers.

Castiel gives a delicate snort and waves away the suggestion.  “I doubt a picture would do him justice.  I'm content using my imagination and your lovely descriptions.  Thank you, though.”

Not for the first time Jimmy imagines Dean and Castiel twined together, nude, slick with sweat and come, breathing heavily with exertion.  His own breathing deepens, and the tiny tingle of arousal turns into an itch.  It's on the tip of his tongue to suggest Castiel become intimate with Dean, but he bites it back.  Castiel has never wanted to have sex with anyone but him and has admitted that the idea of doing so makes him highly uncomfortable.

Plus he has no idea how Dean would feel about Jimmy asking him to fuck his twin.  And to be allowed to watch.  Dean has been wonderfully adventurous in bed, but he's human and despite the copious amounts of “twin porn” on the internet - the majority of which is faked anyway - Dean might draw the line at actual incestuous acts.  Jimmy has been rejected and reviled by many past lovers when they found out about his relationship with his twin, and the ones who were okay with it were more interested in the kink than in Jimmy and Castiel as individuals.

So he'll just have to keep that lovely scenario in his imagination.  

His thoughts are interrupted by a tinkling ringtone, and he blushes when Castiel scolds him with his eyes for forgetting to silence it in the library.  "Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he pulls out his phone.  

It's a text from Dean.  I need to blow off some steam tonight.  You in?

He looks up at Castiel who is peering at his phone curiously.  “It's Dean.”

“Does this mean you'll be out late?” Castiel asks.

“Unless you don't want me to.”

“Go enjoy yourself,” Castiel says with a warm smile.  “I've got some work to do here, and I'll probably be out late as well.”

Jimmy grins and leans in to kiss his brother.  Just a short peck turns into something deeper when Castiel opens his mouth and flicks his tongue against Jimmy's lips.  It's an invitation he's not going to turn down.  When they part, Castiel's eyes are dilated and a dopey smile curves his lips, and Jimmy loves him so much in that moment that he feels almost full to bursting with it.  He cups Castiel's face with his free hand.  “My heart.”

Castiel’s hand is warm when it covers Jimmy's.  “My soul.”

“Don't stay in this dusty old place all night.  If you're not home when I get there I'll come hunt you down.”  He's only half teasing.  It's a common occurrence for Castiel to get lost in the web of magic he weaves over and around and through the shelves of the library.  And if the intricate spells don't capture him, the title of a tome he hasn't read for a while will.  On those nights Jimmy will find him sitting on the floor reading, completely absorbed and oblivious to his body's need for food and rest.

“I know you will.”  Castiel pats Jimmy's hand one last time and then lowers his hand to shove gently at Jimmy's chest.  “Go play.”

After one more quick kiss, Jimmy obeys, warm with the strength of his brother's love, and tingling with anticipation for his evening with Dean.

Even though he'd spent a little time with Dean earlier, he's eager to see him again.  It's surprising since he usually tires of lovers after just a few encounters.  But he's been seeing Dean regularly for a little over a month now, and his interest has only grown in that time.

He ponders that as he heads for the parking lot.  What is it about Dean that keeps him coming back for more?  The sex is definitely good.  Scratch that, it's damn good.  Dean is an attentive and skilled lover.  But Jimmy has had great lovers before.  And of course there's Castiel who can take Jimmy apart and put him back together and make him feel like a whole new being after he's done.

The mystery niggles at his brain, distracting him from the odd twisting sensation he normally feels in his stomach as he passes through the University's travel portal to Kansas.  The drive from the portal to the Winchester's home is short, and he still hasn't figured out what is so special about Dean by the time he pulls his car into the barren lot in front of the abandoned looking building that squats over the hidden bunker.

It takes a few minutes before his knock on the door is answered, which is not a surprise considering how big the old bunker is.  Dean gave him a small tour the first time he visited, but he certainly hasn't seen the whole place yet.  He thinks it would be fun to explore a Men of Letters bunker, but he's sure Castiel would be far more interested in the place.  Especially the library.  He's chuckling softly at the mental image of Castiel's reaction to all the rare books the Winchesters own when the door swings open.

His laughter dries up in his throat as soon as his eyes land on Dean.  Who answered the door wearing nothing but a very thin towel, with water still dripping from his hair to leave wet paths from his neck and shoulders down over his chest.  Jimmy's eyes follow one of the shimmery trails that ends with a droplet quivering precariously from Dean's nipple, and he licks his lips, suddenly parched and thirsty enough to lean forward and lap it up.

“Hey, Jimmy.”

Ugh, that's Dean's come fuck me voice.  And Jimmy's body is already responding, skin tightening over the desire coiling inside him.  He tears his gaze away from the hapless drop of water, and looks up to find Dean smirking at him.  It snaps Jimmy out of his daze and he glares at Dean, although the only heat behind it is from arousal.  “I kind of hate you right now.”

Dean's smirk widens into a grin.  “Oooh, does this mean you're gonna get rough?”

Probably, especially since Jimmy is itching to respond to the challenge in Dean's eyes.  He crowds close to Dean, who lets the door shut behind them after he passes through it, and traps him against the iron railing lining the small landing just inside the bunker.  The move forces Dean to lean back over open space, and even though he's in no danger of falling because Jimmy's weight against his legs and grip on the railing will hold him in place, there's still an air of danger surrounding them.  

And if the growing hardness against Jimmy's thigh is any indication, Dean likes it.

Jimmy leans a little closer, holding Dean's gaze and enjoying the way his lips part in a gasp.  “I'll make sure you feel it for days.”

The leafy green of Dean's irises is nearly swallowed by his pupils, and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.  “Awesome.”

The air practically vibrates between them.  Jimmy feels power arcing between them, little sparks of invisible magic reacting to the intense arousal building up inside both of them.  Like static electricity in a brewing storm.

“Oh for fuck’s- Really, Dean?”

Sam's disgruntled voice below the landing snaps the tension between them.  Dean twists to look, while Jimmy peers past his shoulder.  Sam is standing in the room below with his hand over his eyes but the slump of his shoulders indicates that he's already completely done with their bull shit.  

“Hi, Sam,” Jimmy says with a little wave that Sam doesn't see from behind the shield of his fingers.

Sam's voice is resigned.  “Hey, Jimmy.”

“What's the matter, Sammy?” Dean’s voice is edged with wicked glee.

“Besides the fact that I need to dig out my eyes now?” Sam huffs.  “Maybe it's the fact that you answered the door naked?”

Jimmy moves to let Dean straighten up to his full height, and covers his mouth to hold in a chuckle when Dean winks at him and adjusts the towel around his waist so that his dick isn't peeking out from the edges.  “Well I couldn't leave our guest out on the porch all night.”

“I was coming to answer it.”

“I beat your slow ass to it,” Dean counters.  “And I even stopped to put on a towel.  So.  Not naked.  And still faster than you.”

With his eyes still covered Sam throws up his free hand in surrender and spins around.  He leaves the room in long strides, calling over his shoulder “whatever, just take it to your room so the rest of us aren't scarred for life.”

Dean's eyes slide to Jimmy's, and after a few seconds they both burst into laughter.  It echoes around them in the rounded space, and it makes Jimmy ridiculously happy to hear their voices blended together.  

“Come on.” Dean’s grin lacks the same wicked spark it had before they were interrupted, but it's even more beautiful for its pure joy.  He grabs Jimmy's hand and leads him down the stairs and deeper into the bunker.  “Let's continue this somewhere that are won't have an audience.  As much fun as it is to freak out my brother, I don't actually want to put on a show for him.”

The reminder that Dean would disapprove of brotherly involvement with his sex life dampen Jimmy’s mood slightly.  He may not know exactly why he keeps coming back to Dean, but it’s a reminder that eventually he’ll have to stop.  If given a choice between Dean and his brother, Jimmy will always pick Castiel.  He hopes that if Dean finds out the true nature of Jimmy’s relationship with Castiel, they’ll at least still be able to be friends.

He shakes away the depressing thoughts and focuses on Dean’s back as he follows him through the bunker.  “If you were showering, why didn’t you let Sam get the door?”

“Him and Kevin are working on some project and are buried eye-ball deep in research.  I’m surprised either of them even heard the knock.”  Dean pulls Jimmy into his bedroom and presses him up against the door once it’s closed behind them.  He bares his teeth in a predatory grin that sends the good kind of chills racing through Jimmy’s body.  “Besides, I was excited to see you.”

Jimmy hooks his fingers under the edge of the towel, and with a gentle tug loosens it enough to send it sliding to the floor around their feet.  “So excited you couldn’t even put pants on first?”

“Eh, what’s the point?” Dean tilts his head in and runs his lips across Jimmy’s jaw, nudging at him until he tilts his head up to give access to his throat.  Which Dean takes quick advantage of, scraping his teeth over the tendon below Jimmy’s ear.  His voice is deep with arousal between nipping kisses.  “I’d be taking them off again in a minute anyway.”

“Very logical,” Jimmy pants as Dean’s tongue slides over his quickening pulse.  

Despite the fact that Dean had mentioned getting rough, his touches are anything but.  His fingers deftly unbutton Jimmy’s shirt, then slowly spreading it open and pushing it off his shoulders, all while his his mouth follows the line of Jimmy’s collarbone and down his sternum.  Then he gets down on his knees.

Instead of immediately opening Jimmy’s pants, Dean leans in and rubs his face back and forth over the bulge under the zipper.  First one cheek, and then the other, like a cat showing its affection.  He glances up with darkened green eyes, and Jimmy forgets how to breathe when he sees the unadulterated hunger in them.  

Dean holds eye contact as he finally opens Jimmy’s fly and tugs down his pants and underwear just enough to give him the access he needs to rub his face against Jimmy’s bare dick.  There’s just enough stubble lining his cheeks that Jimmy can feel it, but not enough to be uncomfortable.  It sends little jolts of pleasure through his groin, and as much as he would love to see his dick in Dean’s mouth, he’s enjoying the teasing as well.

But he doesn’t utter a single word of complaint when Dean’s lips part and wrap around the head of his dick.  It takes every ounce of willpower he has not to close his eyes in ecstasy when Dean suckles gently.  But he can’t look away.  Dean’s gaze holds him captive, demanding without words that he watch.  It almost seems like a betrayal to even blink.

And Dean rewards him for his attention by putting on an incredible show.  Licking and sucking, deepthroating until his nose is buried in the dark curly hair of Jimmy’s groin.  He tilts his head to the side as he pulls back, and Jimmy gasps as he watches his own dick stretch Dean’s silky cheek.  Dean works him with hands and mouth, fingers playing with his sack and the sensitive area behind it.  

It’s fucking spectacular to watch, and Jimmy is so engrossed that he nearly misses the fact that his orgasm is building up.  But Dean must notice the change in his body as it coils tighter and tighter under his touch because he pulls back and removes his hands just as Jimmy’s about to tilt over the edge.

Fuck,” Jimmy grunts, his hips twitching and muscles spasming as his body reaches for the pleasure just out of its reach.  

Dean pats him on the hip.  “Sorry, but I’ve got other plans for you.”

Jimmy lets his head fall back against the door, suddenly feeling like he ran a marathon.  His muscles feel like jello and his chest heaves with his labored breathing.  “Oh yeah?” he squeezes out between pants.

“Oh yeah,” Dean promises.  

He divests Jimmy of his shoes, and the rest of his clothing and then stands and pulls and nudges Jimmy until his back is to the bed and he’s tumbling back on it.  Then with a whispered cantrip he conjures a condom and rips open the packet with his teeth.  He knee walks onto the bed and straddles Jimmy’s thighs.  

Jimmy understands what Dean has planned almost immediately, and he approves of the plan.  “You wanna ride me?”

Dean rolls the condom down over Jimmy’s leaking dick, and flashes him a flirty smile.  “Hell yeah.  Opened myself up for you while I was in the shower.”

Any other time Jimmy would be demanding to taste Dean after an announcement like that.  But as much as he’d like to shove his tongue in Dean’s ass, right now his body is practically screaming at him to fuck, thanks to Dean’s ministrations.  Just the touch of his fingers as he puts the condom on Jimmy and slicks him up with conjured oil is too much of a tease.  “Well, what are you waiting for?” he demands.  “Ride ‘em, cowboy.”

Dean chuckles and reaches between his legs to oil himself up.  “If you’re expecting a ‘yeehaw’, you’re going to be seriously disappointed.”

“Oh come on,” Jimmy teases.  “You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, buddy.  Maybe next time I’ll bring out the cowboy hat and boots and we can play sheriff.”  Dean positions himself over Jimmy’s hips, and with the hand still slick with oil, guides Jimmy’s dick to his hole.  He sinks down, and there’s hardly any resistance, and they both let out a soft moan.  

Dean’s body is welcoming, but still tight, and Jimmy finally allows himself to close his eyes and just feel.  His hands grip at Dean’s thighs, fingers flexing with the need to make him move and to hold him still.  He really can’t decide which he wants more right now.

But Dean takes the decision from him, rocking and rolling his hips.  He keeps the motions small enough that Jimmy is just grinding inside him, pressing at his inner walls from different angles.  Until he hits the right one and Dean curses softly.  

Jimmy opens his eyes now and watches Dean lose himself to the pleasure.  He’s gorgeous with his eyes drooped half-shut, and his lips parted around breathy moans.  His hair is still damp, no longer dripping, but still clinging to his forehead.  Golden skin kissed by the sun and marked with hundreds of freckles flushes with exertion as Dean starts rocking harder, lifting his hips and slamming back down, finally chasing the roughness he’d teased about earlier.

If only Castiel could see him.  Could see the flex and strain of his muscles.  The way his pink lips turn red under his teeth.  The flash of green whenever Dean looks down at him.  Or would Castiel use his Sight and see the source of the burning energy Jimmy can feel pulsing under Dean’s skin?  

It’s hot enough to scorch, but Jimmy feels no pain.  The power sinks into him, spreading through his limbs, making him feel too big inside his body and yet there always seems to be room for more.  The magic flows between them, around them, through them.  Jimmy hopes Dean can feel it too, with his human senses.  

He must feel something because his breathing is hitching, and his movements become choppy.  His muscles tighten around Jimmy’s cock, trying to milk him.  And Jimmy wants to give in to Dean’s body, to give it what it’s practically begging for.  But now that he’s close again, he’s not quite ready to come.  Not by himself anyway.  So he wraps a hand around Dean’s dick and strokes him, squeezing tight at the head and twisting the way he’s learned that Dean loves.

And it’s apparently just what Dean needs because it only takes a few passes of Jimmy’s fist over his dick before he’s coming.  With a wordless shout Dean grinds his hips down, doing little figure eights that massage Jimmy in all the right places and all the right ways and bring him tumbling over the edge as well.

***

“You could stay if you want.”

Dean definitely doesn’t pout when Jimmy only smiles in response to his invitation, but continues to pull on his clothes.  At least the view is nice.  Jimmy’s thick thighs and tight ass are definitely worth ogling for as long as possible before they’re covered by a pair of soft jeans.

Once he’s got his pants on and his shirt pulled over his arms, even if he hasn’t buttoned it up yet, he comes over and sits on the edge of Dean’s bed.  He runs a hand from Dean’s stomach, up over his chest, all the way up until it’s cupping Dean’s jaw.  His smile is warm and lazy, and his cheeks are still flushed from exertion.  “Why are you pouting?”

“I’m not.”  When Jimmy lifts an eyebrow in disbelief, Dean pulls his bottom lip between his teeth so it won’t stick out further and betray him.  Jimmy’s soft chuckle makes him grin.  

He’s only known the other professor for a few weeks, but he’s kind of become attached to the sound of his laugh.  Probably a little bit more than the sounds of his gasps and moans, although Dean is extremely fond of those as well.  

Lifting his head to free one of the hands stacked behind it, he reaches up to ruffle Jimmy’s hair.  He cups the back of his neck and pulls him down until their faces are inches apart and his vision is mostly filled with the blue of Jimmy’s eyes.  “Okay, maybe I’m pouting a little bit.  How come you never stay?”

He didn’t realize he was going to ask the question until it slipped off his tongue.  But he means it.  Which is dangerous.  There’s a reason he sticks to casual encounters.  He’s already given Jimmy far more of his time than he gives any of his lovers, and he should really start disentangling himself from this thing they have soon.

And yet he holds his breath, waiting for Jimmy’s answer.

“I don’t want my brother to worry about me.”

An image of Castiel peering up at him with intense wonder passes behind Dean’s eyes and just the memory of it shakes something inside him.  It had been difficult being the recipient of that stare.  He’d felt spread open and exposed in a way that should have made him want to lash out and escape, but instead it had just left him flustered.  He felt like he should run away, to escape Castiel’s magnetic eyes, but at the same time he wanted to bask in the open admiration there.  

Even if he doesn’t deserve it.  Sure, he’s attractive on the outside, but if Castiel could see what’s hiding under Dean’s pretty facade, he would have looked at Dean with disgust and horror instead of wonder and fascination.

“So call him and tell him you’ll be home later,” Dean murmurs.  He pulls Jimmy down until their lips brush, wanting to forget about his encounter with Castiel.  But when their mouths connect his brain short circuits and he has a weird moment where he feels like he is kissing the other twin.  Thankfully the moment passes quickly.

Jimmy’s lips are soft, gentle.  And the kiss is sweet, like he wants to make it last.  Which means that he’s not going to stay.  Dean doesn’t bother to hide his sigh when Jimmy sits back up.  Or his pout.

“Not tonight.  I’ve got an early class, and I want to spend a little time with my brother before I go to bed.”  

There’s true regret in Jimmy’s eyes, and that mollifies Dean a little bit.  He sighs and stacks his hands behind his head again.  “You know, I’m real close with Sammy, but I can go a whole day without hanging out with him and not miss him.  Hell, I could probably go a week.”

Jimmy’s expression tenses before he turns away, bouncing up from the bed and searching out the rest of this clothing.  “Castiel is my twin.  It’s different.”

The excuse sounds weak, and for a brief moment Dean wonders if some of the odd rumors he’s heard about the twins might be true.  But he immediately shakes off those thoughts, feeling guilty for even considering it.  If the Novak twins got up to the kind of things Dean has heard people whispering about, Jimmy wouldn’t have the energy to come over and fuck around with Dean nearly every night.  

“You should bring him over here some time,” Dean suggests.  When Jimmy turns a surprised look in his direction, he shrugs to hide that he surprised himself as well.  “Come on, you’ve met Sam.  Bring Castiel over one night and we can all have dinner or something.”  He looks away from Jimmy’s pretty blue eyes, overcome by a sudden shyness.  “We don’t have to always have sex.”

The bed sinks near his hip again, and he looks up to see Jimmy bent over him.  Jimmy is smiling at him in a way that makes Dean’s heart thump hard against his ribs, and not from arousal.  It’s something different.  More profound.  Which is absolutely ridiculous because he hasn’t known Jimmy long enough for that.  

"Dean..."  Jimmy trails a finger over Dean's collarbone.  "That sounds suspiciously like a date."

He shouldn't get involved, but fuck he wants to.  Maybe Sam's lectures that he can't live closed off from the world are finally sinking in, or maybe he's just really fucking tired of his self imposed loneliness.  Maybe Jimmy is just that damn awesome.  But Dean swallows, and decides to go with it.  

"It could be," he murmurs.  "If you want."

Jimmy stares down at him for a long time, his eyes shadowed with thoughts Dean can't even begin to guess at.  It's difficult not to squirm under that gaze.  In that moment he’s absolutely identical to Castiel.  It feels like he's trying to see inside Dean, to judge the worth of his soul.  Dean is almost ready to rescind the invitation when Jimmy finally comes to a decision.

"I'll talk to my brother about it," Jimmy says softly.  

Dean grins, something like relief making him feel a little light headed.  "Awesome."

"But I really do need to get home."  Jimmy bounces up from the bed and starts buttoning his shirt.

Dean sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.  "I'll walk you out."

Jimmy's smile is sly.  "Such a gentleman."

"Pffft.  Lies."  He laughs along with Jimmy as he grabs some sweats from his dresser and pulls them on commando.  

He doesn't bother with any other clothes because Sam's seen him in less, and it's just a walk across the bunker.  Jimmy gives him one more sweet kiss at the door and then he's gone.  

Dean sighs and slides a hand over his face, then drops it to rub the ugly mark on his inner arm.  The spell keeping it hidden tingles against his fingertips, but the mark itself is nearly silent.  It’s never completely dormant, but lately its hum is so low, he can barely feel it unless he focuses on it.  

He's not sure what the fuck he's doing.  He hasn't even told Jimmy about the mark yet.  And if he's going to take this seriously, he's gotta come clean about it.  Just because it feels dormant doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way, and it would be wrong to get involved...

His stomach grumbles, and he decides to let it distract him for now.  He limps back down the stairs and makes his way across the bunker.  Each twinge in his well-used ass cheers him up a little more, and he's grinning by the time he strolls into the kitchen which isn’t as empty as he expected it to be since Sam and his apprentice Kevin had spent most of the day buried in the lower catacombs of the bunker’s library.

There’s a flurry of motion at the table, but Dean doesn’t bother to look over as Kevin hides behind his notes.  He opens the fridge and surveys the mostly empty shelves while idly scratching his bare chest.  “Hm, looks like I need to take a trip to the store.”

“Not dressed like that, I hope,” Sam deadpans.  “Is that a hickey?”

It’s an older one, left over from a few nights before.  This time Jimmy left with skin marked by Dean’s mouth.  The thought makes him smile.

“Sure is, Sammy.”  He grabs a carton of leftover Chinese food and lets the fridge door swing shut before grabbing a fork from a drawer.  He grins at Kevin’s strangled noise of embarrassment when he joins them at the table.  His brother rolls his eyes at him, and Dean winks back, gratified when Sam’s sour glare turns into a reluctant smile.

“So, you’ve been seeing Jimmy a lot,” Sam says casually, as if it’s normal for Dean to bring someone around more than two or three times.  He makes a show of fiddling with his laptop, but if he was a dog, his ears would be pricked forward, waiting eagerly for Dean’s reactions.  “It’s been over a month.  And he’s here all the time.”

Dean twirls his fork in the noodles and shoves a wad of them in his mouth.  Because it irritates his brother and Kevin, he talks as he chews.  “Yeah, well I like him.  A lot.”

Sam looks up, his eyes solemn.  “That much?”

“Yeah.” Dean meets his brother’s stare.  “A lot.”

“Are you two speaking English, or am I having some kind of bizarre dream?” Kevin asks from behind the notes he’s still using to shield his eyes from Dean’s bare chest.  

They both ignore him.  

“You know you have my support,” Sam says.

Dean knows, but he can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across his face when he hears it.  He clears his throat, and tries to hide his smile behind another mouth full of noodles.  “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Don’t thank me, just go take another shower.  You reek.”

With a smirk, Dean gets up to do just that, taking his noodles with him.

Notes:

Okay, so Mass Effect Andromeda is coming out in a few days, which means I'll probably be slower at writing. I apologize in advance, but I promise I'll dedicate time to working on this and won't disappear into video game land permanently :)

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It's just a dream.

Dean tells himself this as he watches the light fade from the eyes of the nameless man impaled on Dean's blade.  They start out wide, shock forcing his lids wide and tightening his pupils to pinpricks.  And then as his heart fails to send new blood to his brain all those tiny muscles begin to relax.

And as the life flows from him, blood from his chest and soul from his body, the rush starts.  Dean's heartbeat increases, pumping with the power of the Mark even though it should be just as dead as his victim's.  His breathing goes ragged with pleasure, the high better than an orgasm, better than any drug he ever tried as a curious teen.  Every cell in his body sings with it.

But it fades just as quickly as his victim's life, and he's left empty, starving, thirsting, desperate for another hit.

*flicker*

Three vampires are already dead at his feet, and the high roars through him as he runs in pursuit of the last.  The tainted copper tang of monster blood is in his mouth, filling him with the hunger for more.  The beat of his feet against dirt fills his ears with their thump thump thump, or is it the terrified heartbeat of his prey?  He still hears it when he catches the creature, louder than before, but now it sounds like a voice.  Kill kill kill.

No. No.  This nest keeps to themselves.  They live on a little ranch and raise animals for blood.  They don't kill…

The blade sinks through the back of his prey’s neck, the spine giving way like butter under a warm knife.

*flicker*

Warm blood, not his own, coats his fist when he pulls it back.  The girl pinned between his thighs struggles weakly, but there's no escape-

Dean sits bolt upright with a shout tearing free of his throat.  Seconds later his door slams open and Sam is there, large hands on Dean's shoulders and anchoring him to the waking world.

“Hey, hey, Dean.  It's okay.”

Dean’s eyes roll from side to side, taking in the details of his room.  His surroundings feel unreal, the edges of everything fuzzy, the light from the open door hazy.

But Sam's hands feel solid and real.  More real than anything in the dream.

Sam's voice is a low murmur of comfort and reassurance and Dean clings to it, following it back to reality.  Slowly, everything solidifies and he's able to focus on his brother.  Although it's painful to see the fear and worry on his brother's face.  It's his job to protect Sam, not to stress him out because he can't handle a damn nightmare.

But he doesn't brush Sam away as his instinct is driving him to do.  Not after a dream like that.  

Once he sees that Dean is fully awake, Sam's grip on Dean's shoulders loosens and he sits down on the bed.  “Was it about me?”

Dean shudders.  The nightmares about Sam are the worst, but they're not the only ones that torment him.  “Not tonight,” he mutters.

Understanding softens Sam's expression.  “You should call her.”

Even though Dean is accepting the comfort of his brother's presence, he still recoils at the idea of reaching out for more.  “It's the middle of the night.”

Sam snorts at Dean's belligerent tone.  He knows exactly how full of shit Dean is.  “Yeah, I doubt she's sleeping.  And even if she is, you know she'd be happy to hear from you.”

He's right, although Dean thinks she's crazy for forgiving him.  So is Sam, for that matter.  Hell, even Crowley has reason to tell Dean to fuck off instead of offering him a job.

“I'll think about it,” Dean says, just to get his brother off his back.

It works, although Sam gives him a look that says he knows what Dean is doing.  It's a sign of how well Dean has been doing for the last year that Sam accepts his words without argument though.  He pats Dean's knee through the blanket tangling around his legs.  “Good enough,” he says.  “I'm going back to bed.  But if you need anything…”

It feels weak, but the smile tugging at Dean's lips is genuine.  “Thanks, Sammy.”

After Sam leaves it's not a relief to be left alone, but at the same time he's glad that Sam isn't there to see the sweat break out on Dean's face, or the way his hand shakes when he wipes it away.  Knowing he won't be able to get back to sleep, Dean throws back the covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed.  His feet ache when he puts weight on them, and his leg muscles feel like he ran ten miles, but he shuffles out of his room to the kitchen, grabbing his phone on the way out.

It sits silent and dark on the table while he goes through the motions of making some toast to settle his stomach.  The urge to call Jimmy surprises him into momentary stillness.  He shakes his head and finishes slathering strawberry jam on his buttered toast.  Even if he was the long term relationship type, he wouldn't want to burden Jimmy with his problems.  Dean's already involving him more than he should by continuing to see him.

He sighs as he settles down at the table and tries not to think about Jimmy or his nightmare while he stares at his phone and eats his snack.  He'd much rather have a shot or six of whiskey, but he's got two classes that day and he isn't so far gone that he'd disrespect his students by showing up with a hangover.  Plus he wanted to stop at the library before heading home to prepare for Jimmy and Castiel to come over that evening.

The memory of Castiel's unblinking stare when he'd shown up after one of Dean's classes earlier that week and thanked him for inviting both twins to dinner sends a shiver down Dean's spine.  Castiel doesn't look at Dean with the heat of lust, but there's still open admiration in his gaze.  Like there something special about Dean.  Something good.  And for a few seconds Dean wondered if there was something there that Castiel could see that Dean can't when he's looking at his own reflection.

Dean watches his fingers pull apart his last piece of toast.  There's only jam and butter and the crumbs of Sam's fancy bird seed riddled bread on his fingers right now, but he can still feel the tacky wetness of drying blood coating them.  He doesn't get up and wash  his hands until they're raw and red, but it's only because he's a stubborn bastard and he refuses to give in to any of the bullshit the mark throbbing on his arm drives him to.

It shouldn't feel good to have Castiel look at him like that.  Like there's no blood staining his hands so deeply that Dean feels it in his soul.  But it does.  Just as good as it feels to lose himself in Jimmy's body for a few hours.  In the secret recesses of his heart he craves that look though.  As well as the peace he feels in the quiet moments Jimmy spends with him before leaving.

There are worse things to crave.  Which is why he allows himself to indulge.  Food, sex, and even though it's dangerous, friendship.  It's not a perfect solution, but it makes ignoring the Mark easier.

Leaning back in his chair, he licks his fingers clean and contemplates his phone.  Before he can talk himself out of it he picks it up and dials.  As it rings, he berates himself for being a coward because he wishes he was calling Jimmy instead.  

“Shouldn't you be sleeping?”

As expected, Charlie sounds wide awake despite the fact that it's just past three in the morning.  Dean snorts.  “Shouldn't you be sleeping?”

“Technically I am.  My body's nice and comfy in bed, while I get my work done.”  She says it like it's not creepy as fuck that she can transfer her consciousness into a computer and just leave her body in a coma-like state while her soul prowls around the internet in digital format.

Fuckin’ technomancers man.

“How is that restful?  Sleep is for the mind and the body.”  

It's an old argument, one they've been having for years.  So he knows exactly what she'll say, and she doesn't disappoint.  “You need sleep for your mind because you can't run a defrag on it whenever you want like I can.”

Dean smiles even as he runs a hand over his tired eyes.  “Must be nice.”

No sleep means no dreams.  No memories clawing their way out of the tight compartment he keeps them locked in while he's awake.

As usual Charlie understands what he means.  Not that it would be hard for someone magnitudes less smart than her to connect the dots.  He's calling her in the middle of the night when he mostly avoids talking to her because of the guilt eating at him for what he did to her.  There’s a crackle on the line, and he knows she's there with him, her mind housed in the circuits of the phone pressed to his ear.  Her voice sounds a little clearer when she speaks, the speaker in the earpiece fine tuned by her power.  “Bad dreams tonight, huh?”

Dean nods, pushing the phone harder against his ear, until it aches in protest.  “Yeah.”

“I'll keep telling you I forgive you until you believe it,” Charlie says firmly.

“I believe you,” Dean counters.  His voice is hoarse with suppressed emotion, but he's smiling.  “I just think you're an idiot.”

“Pffft, I'm a genius.  You're the idiot.”

“Hey, you were my apprentice.  I taught you shit, so that's gotta count for some IQ points.”

“Two or three.  But you lose like a hundred points for thinking that you're not worth forgiving.”

He huffs out a laugh.  Even though he can't forgive himself for nearly killing her, the fact that she's still alive and able to give him a hard time makes him feel better.  Especially since somehow their friendship is still in tact.  “Alright, alright.  Can we talk about something else?”  

“Sure, let's talk about your hot new shag buddy.”

Dean frowns.  “You've been talking to Sam, huh?”

“Well, he calls me on a regular basis.”  She must sense his flinch because she adds, “calm your tits, I'm teasing.”

“Har har,” he intones with a roll of his eyes.  “I can't believe Sam is gossiping with you about my sex life.”

Charlie's laugh tinkles across the line.  “Yes you can.  I can't believe you're fooling around with Professor Novak.  He was my classic languages teacher for a couple semesters.”

It hadn't occurred to Dean that Charlie would know Jimmy, even though he knows she attended The University before she became his apprentice.  Dean blinks.  “You know Jimmy?”

“Yeah, although I know Castiel better.  He always let me stay late at the library when I couldn't sleep.  He's a weird guy, but a total sweetheart.”

“I've only talked to Cas a few times,” Dean admits.  “But he is coming over tonight with Jimmy for dinner.”

There's a long pause, without even the ambient fuzz of a connected call.  “Really?  Both of them?  Huh.”

The flatness of her tone raises a flag.  It's not red, but it's still a warning.  “Why is that weird?”  

“I just didn't think you were poly.”

This time it's Dean who pauses as he tries to parse what the hell she's talking about.  “Come again?”

“Well if you're dating one, you've gotta be okay with at least sharing, and they're coming over for date night together so-”

Dean cuts into her jabber.  “Hold up, Chuck.  It's just dinner with friends and family.” Even if the the word date had come up when he asked Jimmy.  “Sam's gonna be here, and I thought it would be cool to hang out with Cas a little bit too since we're coworkers and I'll see him all the time while I'm poking around in the restricted books.”

“Oh.  Ok.”

His eyes narrow.  “That's all you've got?  ‘Oh, ok’?”

He can practically hear Charlie squirming on the other end of the line, even if she is currently in the astral plane.  “Well there's all those rumors about them being, you know, together.”

Despite himself, Dean's mind supplies an image of the twins naked together in his bed.  But he immediately blanks it out because if he's going to be anywhere near serious with Jimmy he doesn't want to be that guy who fantasized about his twin, and even worse, fantasizes about them together.  It's just rude.  

“They're brothers, Charlie.”

“Yeah I know, but-”

“And those kind of rumors are stupid.  You know some people used to think Sam and I were banging too, right?”

That stops Charlie in her metaphorical tracks.  “Really?  You and Sam?”  There's a thoughtful pause.  “Actually I can see that.”

“What?” Dean nearly chokes on the word in his shock.  

Charlie is laughing so hard at his reaction that the line begins to crackle with static as she loses a little control over her magic.  He's almost ready to hang up on her when the static clears and her laughter trails off with a big breath and a happy sigh, which is weird since she's not currently occupying a body.

“You done?” He grumbles.

That sets off another minor eruption of giggles.  “You know I wouldn't judge, right?” She manages to gasp out.

“Don't be gross.”

The line goes crackly with laughter again, and Dean rolls his eyes and lowers the phone.  His thumb hovers over the icon to hang up, but Charlie's voice squeaking com the speaker stops him, and he puts it back up to his ear.

“Wait, wait!  I'm sorry!” She lets out one last stifled giggle.  “I'll bet your face was priceless though.”

Your face is priceless.”

She snorts at the weak comeback.  “Duh.  I've looked in a mirror.”

That makes him laugh, and he shakes his head.  Damn, he loves her.  She signed on as his apprentice, but even though they no longer have a professional relationship, she'll always be the little sister of his heart.  He's so fucking grateful that she's still around despite getting in the way of one of his random killing rages.  And that he's learned to control his murderous impulses.

“I miss you, Charlie.”

“I miss you too, Dean.”

They're both quiet for a moment, just soaking in each other's presence.  He wishes she were physically close enough for a hug, but this is good too.  He's glad he called her.

“So,” he says when he's sure his voice won't break.  “How's Oz treating you and Dorothy?”

“Ugh, let me tell you, the Wizard really screwed this place up.”  She chatters on about Emerald City politics and restoration efforts after the Four Corners war.

Dean leans back in his chair and lets her talk his ear off until it's time to get ready for work.

***

Castiel doesn't really like being cooped up in cars for long periods.  He'd much rather travel under his own power, spreading his wings and riding the winds to and from his destinations.  So seeing the terrain blur past through the passenger window of Jimmy's old Lincoln Continental makes his feathers fluff up under his skin, eager to burst free.  

But the Men of Letters bunker owned by the Winchester family is in Kansas, and it's a little too far to get there from Pontiac, Illinois where Castiel and Jimmy make their home.  Jimmy uses the portals to and from the University to get there quickly, making the trip just a short ride, and Castiel could easily do the same on the wing, but since they're traveling together he rides along in the car.  

His discomfort is forgotten as soon as Jimmy pulls up in front of the bunker.  From the outside it looks like an abandoned warehouse, but he can sense the power radiating from it and when he opens his inner eye he can see the warding marking the walls, glowing like neon lights in the deepening evening.  

“Not very impressive looking, is it?” Jimmy asks as he turns off the engine.

Castiel shakes his head.  The magic protections are beautifully done, but the building itself looks dangerously dilapidated.  “I assume it’s camouflage,” he muses out loud.

“Yeah it is.  Wait until you see inside.”

Castiel is looking forward to it.  The Men of Letters are a very secretive organization and don’t open their doors to anyone but their own members.  Their wizards are some of the best in the world, but he thinks it’s ridiculous that they don’t want to share their knowledge.  The Winchesters, Dean and his brother Sam, who Castiel will be meeting for the first time today, apparently disagree with their entire organization.

He follows Jimmy to the door, and watches curiously as his brother knocks.  It takes a few minutes before there’s an answer, and when the door swings open Castiel almost takes a step back.

The man standing in the doorway is very large.  Castiel and Jimmy are not short, but this man makes them seem to be.  But in addition to his size, Castiel’s attention is arrested by his aura.  Silvery rays emanate from his skin, with brighter motes floating through them like dust in a moonbeam.  Huge ethereal antlers carved of light and shadows grow from his forehead, wider than the doorway.  If the antlers were solid bone there’s no way the man would be able to hold them up, but they shift and turn with each of his movements as if they weigh less than nothing.  And they drip with what look like strings of diamonds and moonstones that glint and sparkle as the man’s light shines through them.  The only thing marring the peaceful light of his soul is the occasional black patch that clings to small parts of his skin like lichen.  

If Dean is the a phoenix born of the Sun, this man is a bull moose born of the Moon.  And he’s beautiful.

An elbow nudging him in the side startles Castiel, making him blink, closing away his Sight.  And he realizes the man in front of him is still very tall, but no longer makes him feel dwarfed.  The jeweled antlers are gone, along with the patches of lichen on his skin.  He’s just a man with shaggy hair, lovely hazel eyes, and a confused but kind smile.

Which is probably Castiel’s fault.  He clears his throat and turns to look at Jimmy.  “I’m sorry, what?”

Jimmy’s grin stretches wide, but there’s no mocking in it so Castiel doesn’t feel too embarrassed for staring.  “This is Dean’s brother Sam.”

Castiel turns his attention back to Sam and smiles.  “Hello Sam.”  He takes the hand offered to him and cups it in both of his.  “Thank you for welcoming us into your home.”

The confusion fades and Sam’s smile becomes more genuine.  “Yeah, no problem.  Come on in, guys.  Dean’s in the kitchen.”

He steps back to allow them inside and Castiel follows his brother through the door.  His skin prickles with warning as he passes through the warding, and he catches Sam giving him a narrow-eyed look.  He must have tripped a warning signal.  It happens to Castiel often since, unlike most wizards, his magic doesn't lie dormant when he's not actively using it.

Sam doesn't say anything though, so whatever warning he received from the wards must have been low key.  Castiel is no threat, after all.

Jimmy and Sam chat about the weather as they make their way down a curved set of stairs and through an arched doorway leading them deeper into the bunker.  Castiel only pays attention with half an ear as he takes in the beautiful architecture and the magical items displayed around them.  He drags his fingers across the lit top of a large map table as they pass it.

A tug at his senses makes him pause.  It's the same niggling sense of wrong that he gets when his protective spells in the University's library need attention.  His head turns toward it, and his body begins to follow when his attention is grabbed instead by the soft thump of footsteps and a familiar voice.

“Hey guys,” Dean says cheerfully as he comes into the room.  His boyish grin is infectious, and Castiel automatically smiles in response.  “I'm glad you could make it.  I hope you brought your appetites.”  He steps close to Jimmy and slides an arm around his waist before leaning in to peck Jimmy on the lips.  

Jimmy's eyes widen, and Castiel can feel the pleased surprise rolling off him.  He must not have expected such an affectionate greeting.  And judging by the pink tinge riding high on Dean's cheeks and the way his eyes dart from Jimmy to Sam and Castiel, he probably surprised himself as well.

It's adorable, and Castiel smiles wider, happy to have witnessed the moment.

Dean clears his throat and holds out a hand to Castiel.  “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel accepts it, and a small, yet pleasant jolt runs up his arm when their skin touches.  “Hello, Dean.”

Dean's blush deepens but he doesn't look away.  “I’m making burgers.  Jimmy says they're your favorite.”

Suddenly the idea of visiting the bunker’s library is the farthest thing from Castiel's mind.  He tries to eat healthy most of the time, but he can never resist a good burger.  He glances over at Jimmy, and his brother's eyes sparkle with good humor.  “Yes they are.”

“Good.”  Realizing he's still holding Castiel's hand, Dean pulls back and beckons everyone to follow him into the kitchen where there is a table they can all sit at and keep Dean company while he finishes cooking.

Dinner with friends is a rare occurrence for Castiel.  He doesn't connect well with people most of the time because he doesn't understand the concept of small talk, and it makes casual gatherings uncomfortable.  So most of the time he prefers to stay at home and wait for Jimmy to come home and talk about his experiences.  But when Jimmy passed along Dean's invitation he had agreed immediately.

He's nervous though, and he says very little at first.  Dean and Jimmy discuss a faculty meeting that Castiel hadn't attended, and Sam chimes in with comments and questions occasionally.  Castiel learns from their conversation that Sam also teaches, although he currently only trains new Men of Letters members.

He's talking about his absent apprentice Kevin, when Castiel interrupts.  “I find it rather sexist that your organisation only accepts male members.”

When three sets of eyes turn his direction, Castiel shrugs away his discomfort over the scrutiny, and defends his statement.  “Women are just as capable of using magic, and pursuing knowledge of the arcane.  It seems ridiculous to exclude them over old fashioned patriarchal beliefs.”

Dean snorts out a laugh and turns his attention back to the delicious smelling beef patties sizzling in a cast iron pan.  “Man, Cas, you are preaching to the choir.”

Sam takes up the thread while Dean dishes up the patties and brings them to the table where the rest of the burger fixings are already set out.  “We don't follow most of those rules,” he says.  “We've trained a couple Women of Letters.  Dean's last apprentice was a woman.”

“And Charlie would love you for pointing out the patriarchal bullshit,” Dean adds.  He sits across from Jimmy and gestures for everyone to dig in.  He looks up thoughtfully.  “Actually, you guys know her.  Charlie Bradbury?”

Jimmy perks up.  “Charlie is your apprentice?”

Dean’s eyes drop away, and he shifts in his seat.  “Uh… not anymore.”  

He’s clearly uncomfortable, and Castiel’s pleasure at hearing about one of the few students who had bothered to befriend him dims.  “Is she alright?”

Dean’s smile sits stiffly on his lips when he looks up.  “Yeah, she’s good.  Great.  She’s married now.  Lives in Oz with her wife Dorothy.”

Castiel looks to his brother to see if he senses the oddness of Dean’s reaction to the question.  There’s a small furrow between his brow, which means he did notice.  His hand slips across the space between them under the table and rests on his thigh, a silent message to not worry.  

“That’s wonderful,” Jimmy says.  “I’m glad to hear good news about her.  She was a bright student.”

“She’s a friggin’ genius,” Dean says fondly, the stiffness easing from his shoulders.  “And I’m pretty sure she taught me more than I ever taught her.”

“Yeah, Charlie taught Dean how to download the high quality free porn,” Sam chimes in before taking a bite out of his burger and smirking around it at his brother.

Jimmy bursts into laughter, and Dean throws a lettuce leaf at Sam, hitting him in the face with it.  The energy in the room immediately brightens, and Castiel chuckles at the good natured bickering between the Winchester brothers.

The burgers are delicious, and the company is wonderful.  Dean and Sam both make sure that Castiel is included in their conversation, which he can tell makes Jimmy very happy if the small touches under the table are any indication.  Sam asks Castiel about his work and acts genuinely interested when Castiel explains his process for preserving the priceless works in the University’s library while also taking time to assist students with their studies.

“If you’d like,” Castiel says after he licks a smear of ketchup from his thumb, “I can help you with your library.  Its preservation spells could use some work.”

“Uh oh.”  Dean grins and nudges Sam with an elbow.  “Sammy here put up those spells himself.”

Sam’s face scrunches up in a sour look for his brother, but his smile is back when he turns back to Castiel.  “It’s not my specialty, and I’d love any pointers you could give me.  Dean-” he shoots his brother another acid look, but his voice is teasing, “-certainly doesn’t help me with it.”

“I keep the bunker clean like a good little wife,” Dean protests mildly around a mouth full of sweet potato fries.

“I bet you’re pretty in a maid uniform,” Jimmy says with a dreamy sigh.

Dean bounces his eyebrows.  “I could show you some time.”

Sam groans and rolls his eyes before turning his attention to Castiel.  “You wanna go check out the library now, so we can avoid witnessing these two be disgusting together?”

Castiel doesn’t think they’re disgusting.  He loves watching them flirt with each other.  Jimmy exudes happiness, and Dean looks more relaxed and carefree than Castiel has ever seen him.  Usually he has an air of heaviness about him.  Like an unfathomable weight is pushing down on his shoulders.  Whatever it is, he carries it well.  But seeing him without it is wonderful.  And he thinks it has something to do with Jimmy.  The weight had seemed to lift when they touched.

He wishes now he had been watching with his Sight so he could see what changed in Dean at that moment.  

But as much as he’s enjoying watching Dean and Jimmy together, he’s also very curious about the bunker’s collection of books.  He’s head archivist for a reason, and he just can’t stand to see a poorly maintained library.  “Yes, Sam, I would like that very much.”

His plate is empty of all but crumbs, and when he stands to follow Sam, he reaches for it to take it to the sink.  But Dean waves him away and tells him to go have fun with the books.  It seems rude to not clean up after himself, but a glance at Jimmy tells him it’s alright when he sees his twin nod encouragement.

“No sex in the kitchen!” Sam warns with an admonishing finger swinging between Dean and Jimmy.  He leads Castiel out of the room amid their protests of innocence.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Castiel says as Sam leads him away from the kitchen.  “You’ve just planted the idea in their heads.”

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward.  “Those two are a couple of exhibitionists, I swear.  I’m always walking in on them fooling around.”  He gives Castiel an apologetic look.  “Sorry, I know I don’t like to think about my brother doing that stuff, so I’m sure you don’t either.”

Castiel only answers with a smile.  Sam doesn’t need to know that Jimmy comes home from his visits to Dean and tells Castiel in exquisite detail everything they do.  He understands that his relationship with Jimmy is far from normal by human standards, and while they don’t exactly hide it, they don’t freely offer the information either.

But Sam changes the subject anyway, talking about the history of the bunker.  He explains that it was left to them by their grandfather, skipping their father since he’d opted to become a Hunter like his wife.  Castiel is fascinated.  Hunters and wizards don’t always work well together since sometimes the Hunters are tasked with tracking down and terminating rogue monsters and magic users who break the law.  But Sam and Dean are born of a union between a Hunter family and a Men of Letters legacy.  It’s no wonder they buck most of the Men of Letters rules.

His thoughts are interrupted when they reach the library.  Despite the spell decay, he can see a delicacy to the magic lacing through the room that impresses him.  He spends a very enjoyable hour discussing preservation theory with Sam, and showing him how to repair the weak spots.  And he gladly accepts when Sam offers to leave him alone to poke through the collection for a little while.  

He loses track of time as he searches through the shelves, admiring books that he’s seen different editions of, and making note of volumes he would like to borrow if the brothers will allow him.  He’s thumbing through a copy of a necromancer’s journal when Dean finds him in a far corner of the room.

“Hey, Cas.  You get lost in here?”

Castiel lifts his head and beams at Dean.  “It’s easy to do.  It’s a very large library.”

Dean blinks at him, but then he smiles back.  “Libraries are your happy place, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they make me very happy.”  Castiel closes the journal and puts it back in its place, caressing the leather binding fondly before looking back at Dean.  “Almost as happy as good burgers.”

When Dean laughs, Castiel feels a flutter low in his belly.  It confuses him, the way his body reacts to Dean.  It’s the same warm needing that he feels when Jimmy flirts with him, kisses him, touches him.  And Castiel wonders if Dean did those same things, if he would experience the same arousal that his twin manages to pluck forth from inside him.

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.  Next time I’ll make tacos for Jimmy.  But I wanted to butter you up first.  Get in good with his brother, y’know?”

Castiel tilts his head to get a better angle to view the glints of gold in Dean’s lovely green eyes.  “You really like him, don’t you?”

Dean’s blush is beautiful, and Castiel feels a twinge of wicked joy for bringing it about.  “Yeah, uh… yeah I do.”

Even without his Sight Castiel can see that Dean means it.  And it thrills him that someone as magnificent as Dean has set his sights on Jimmy.  Although his enthusiasm wanes slightly when he realizes that Dean may change his mind if he finds out about the relationship between the twins.  Castiel would give up sex with Jimmy if he thought it would make his brother happier to be exclusively with Dean, but he knows that Jimmy would never make that choice.  Even in the unlikely event that he did, Dean would still need to know the full truth about them if a long lasting relationship were ever to grow between them.

It saddens him that the closeness between them will eventually create a distance between Dean and Jimmy.  They are cute together, and make each other happy.  He hopes that they can enjoy each other for as long as possible in the meantime though.

“Jimmy really likes you too,” Castiel says softly.  “I haven’t seen him enjoy someone’s company as much as yours in a very long time.”  Maybe never.  But even though his social skills are rusty, he knows better than to divulge that information to Dean, who seems to be skittish about the conversation they’re having.  No need to scare him off too soon by making things more serious than they are.

Dean shifts from one foot to another, and his eyes dart around.  “I don’t really do the whole love, and…” he swallows, and meets Castiel’s eyes briefly before looking away again, “... love, thing.”

Castiel gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile.  “Don’t worry, Jimmy is just using you for your body.”

That surprises a laugh out of Dean.  His smile lights up his whole being, his aura shining so brightly that Castiel can sense it even with his inner eye shut.  “Well, I can’t complain about that,” Dean says through his grin.  “And are you using me for my library, Cas?”

“Of course,” Castiel counters, pleased with the way Dean shortens his name.  

Dean laughs again and claps a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  The firm touch makes his stomach flutter again.  “Think I can lure you out of here with the promise of ice cream?”

Castiel pretends to consider the offer, although he’s no longer as interested in the library as he was before.  He’d much rather rejoin his brother and the Winchesters and enjoy their companionship for a little longer before the evening ends.  “Maybe?  What kind of ice cream?”

“We’ve got mint chocolate chip, or strawberry.”

“Hm, yes I suppose if I can have a little of both, I can be persuaded to leave all these lovely treasures behind.”  He pats the spines of the nearest books.

To his immense pleasure, Dean throws an arm around his shoulders and leads him away from the shelf, back toward the library’s exit.  “You can have both, and all the extra toppings you want, Cas.”

The weight of Dean’s arm is more tempting than any decadent dessert could ever be.  So Castiel follows willingly.  “Do you have cherries?”

“Maraschino cherries, and cherry sauce.”

“Hm… you know, I think I really like you too, Dean.”

Castiel’s skill at flirting is rusty at best, but at least Dean seems to enjoy it if his laughter is anything to go by as they make their way back to the kitchen.

Notes:

I'm still eyebrow deep in Mass Effect Andromeda, so I am sorry for the slower than normal updates. Also sorry for the radio silence if I don't respond to your lovely comments. When I get a new video game, I'm very bad about time management. My husband is only getting frozen pizza, boxed dinners, and microwaved burritos for dinner until I finish the game lol

Chapter 5

Notes:

Added a voyeurism tag to the story just for this chapter :)

Chapter Text

“Don't forget your translations are due next Tuesday,” Jimmy calls over the general clamor of students packing up and leaving the room.  He grins when he sees a few of them flinch and go pale.  It's unkind to be amused by their stress, but he remembers all the caffeine fueled, last minute homework binges he went on during his own years as a student, so he empathises with them.  He just also enjoys putting them through the same hell he experienced.

When the room is empty, he's still grinning over their suffering.  He hums an upbeat tune as he closes down the PowerPoint on his laptop and puts the overhead projector into sleep mode so it can cool down before his next class.

“You're in a good mood.”

Jimmy brightens even more at the deep sound of Dean's voice coming from the doorway.  He looks over to see the other man with one shoulder leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes sparkling with soft amusement.  And he takes a moment to just admire Dean's striking good looks.

There's a smear of chalk across Dean's cheek and his hair is soft and tousled, without the usual gel he normally puts in it to tame it, and it looks like he's been running his fingers through it.  His brother often does the same, and Jimmy recognizes the signs.  Dean's cherry red shirt is unbuttoned at the throat revealing just the edge of a fading hickey Jimmy had left the last time they fooled around.  The shirt’s sleeves are rolled up and Jimmy thinks it's ridiculous that the sight of Dean's forearms affects him so strongly, especially since he's seen every inch of Dean's body already, but his skin tightens with arousal anyway.

Dean notices his stare and his grin turns wolfish.  “Do you need a picture?”

“Only if I can get one without your clothes on,” Jimmy retorts.  When Dean laughs Jimmy's heart thumps happily, like a puppy wagging its tail against the floor when it pleases its master.  

“I can arrange that,” Dean says as his laughter trails off.  He pushes away from the doorway and saunters into the room.  

Anticipation builds inside Jimmy as Dean approaches, making him smile wider.  He feels like a giddy teen with a crush, and he loves it.  It's been several months since the first time Dean entered his classroom, and instead of waning with time and familiarity, his interest in Dean Winchester has only grown.  Despite moving their relationship from fuck buddies to something slightly more committed, Jimmy doesn't know how much longer it will last.  It can never be permanent, but he intends to enjoy it as long as possible.

Dean's lips are soft against his own, the kiss chaste but with enough pressure that it would take very little to turn it into something far less tame.  But before Jimmy can do so Dean pulls back.  There's a twinkle in his pretty green eyes that says he knows exactly why Jimmy sighs when they part.  The jerk.

"Don't pout," Dean says, echoing a command Jimmy often gives him when he refuses to stay in Dean's bed a little longer.  "You know Cas will starve if we don't make sure he eats."

Jimmy sighs again, but it's all an act.  He's hungry for actual food, and Dean's right about his twin's inability to remember to feed himself.  "Honestly, I don't know what he'd do without me."

"Probably waste away."  Dean falls in next to Jimmy on the way from the classroom to the library.  He nudges Jimmy with an elbow and grins.  "Don't worry, I'll make sure he eats if you're not around to do it."

The words are spoken teasingly, but they sober Jimmy.  He looks up at Dean, staying close to his side as they weave through the crowded halls.  "You would?"

Dean shrugs.  "O'course I would.  Someone has to keep an eye on the nerdy little guy."

Jimmy's heart does a strange triple beat.  It makes him ridiculously happy that Dean cares about Castiel.  "Thank you, Dean."

"For what?"  Dean looks down at him with genuine curiosity.  

"For caring about Castiel."

Dean's smile is crooked, but there's truth in his words.  "Cas is my friend."

That makes Jimmy smile all the way to the library.

Sure enough, when they get there Castiel is surprised at the time, but he puts aside his work and joins them at a table.  While Jimmy conjures a meal for the three of them Castiel and Dean fall into a conversation about Dean's research.

They've been spending a lot of time together lately because Dean has finally started writing his book, and he's either in the library with Cas during his free period, or Jimmy and Castiel visit the bunker to help him.  Jimmy has found Dean and Castiel with their heads together over a pile of books so often lately that it had been a natural progression for the three of them to start having lunch together.

And Castiel doesn't even bother to scold Dean for having food in the library.  Dean has no idea how significant that is, because even Jimmy gets the occasional disapproving look from his twin.  

He watches them split a ham sandwich while debating whether Dean should include certain texts in his research, and his heart does another happy tap dance inside his chest.  They're so engrossed in their conversation that neither one of them spare him a glance, but he doesn't mind in the least.  Castiel is animated, gesturing at Dean with Cheeto-stained fingers.  He doesn't agree with Dean and is giving him a fiery speech about biased research, loud enough that students are giving him sideways looks.  Dean is serenely putting up with the lecture, his eyes shining with both mirth and challenge even as he steals Jimmy's soda.  He winks at Jimmy when he gives it back, then refocuses on Castiel's lecture.

They're gorgeous together.  

Sometimes when Jimmy looks at his twin he feels overwhelmed, filled past the brim with love for him, until he aches with it.  That feeling sweeps through him now, but Castiel isn't the only man he's looking at this time.  It's Castiel.  It's Dean.

It's Castiel and Dean.

Fuck, he's in love with both of them.

Thunderstruck by the realization, he barely picks at his food for the next twenty minutes, answering questions if directed at him, but otherwise just watching the two men he loves interact.  Castiel is aware that there is something going on in Jimmy's head, because he starts giving him longer looks, his eyes questioning.  Jimmy gives him a reassuring smile, but he still feels the nudge inside his head when Castiel reaches out with his power to link their minds.

Are you alright?

It's a sign of how deft Castiel is with this kind of magic that he's able to communicate with Jimmy directly into his head while still carrying on his conversation out loud with Dean.  It's damn attractive, and Jimmy grins at his twin.  You're sexy.

There's a wiggle in his brain that Jimmy interprets as an annoyed, yet flattered huff.  You're avoiding the question.

Yup, Jimmy thinks cheerfully.  While they're linked he can't hide that his thoughts and emotions are churning, but he doesn't share their contents.  Not just yet.  He needs a little time to process first.  But he doesn't want to worry Castiel, so he sends him a wave of reassurance.  We'll talk about it later, okay?

There's a flick of loving acceptance, and then Castiel retreats from the link, leaving Jimmy alone with his thoughts for the rest of lunch.  When they're finished and the remains of their meal banished without a crumb left behind, Castiel stops Jimmy from following Dean from the library with a soft touch on the shoulder.  

"We'll talk," Jimmy promises in response to Castiel's wordless questions.  He wants to kiss Castiel, but they're in full view of several students and they try to keep the PDAs as private as possible.  So he settles for placing his hand over Castiel's and squeezing his fingers.  "Love you."

"I love you," Castiel says softly.  He releases Jimmy and steps back, waving at Dean who is waiting nearby.

"Everything okay?" Dean asks when they walk out of the library side by side.  "You were kinda quiet today."

Jimmy grins down at the floor.  If he looks up at Dean now, he'll probably see things Jimmy doesn't want to reveal just yet.  Maybe never.  But happiness bubbles up in him because Dean notices something is off anyway, and it makes Jimmy love him more.  He takes a moment to school his features into innocent sincerity before meeting Dean's curious gaze.  "Yeah, I just didn't want to interrupt you two nerds."

For a fraction of a second Dean doesn't look convinced, but the joke does its job and he rolls his eyes.  "Like you're not a nerd, Mister Professor of Ancient and Arcane Languages."

"'Mister Professor' is redundant," Jimmy lectures breezily.

Dean scoffs, but deliberately bumps their shoulders together.  "Whatever, Teach."

He drops the subject and they talk about their plans for classes the rest of the day.  At Jimmy's classroom, Dean says goodbye with a peck to Jimmy's lips before sauntering away.

Jimmy watches the manly swing of his hips until he disappears among the students rushing to and from classes.  He sighs and goes inside, greeting the early arrivals already waiting for class to start.  

His mind isn't completely on his lectures or his students for his last two classes.  Even though he knows it's a futile exercise, he lets himself imagine a world where humans don't judge him and his brother by their standards.  A world where the easy affection in Dean's eyes won't die when he finds out that Jimmy and Castiel are lovers.  That he'll accept and love them both, because of course Jimmy could never accept the love of someone who doesn't care as strongly for his twin.

He should probably cut things short now before... Well it's already too late.  He's already attached, and he's in for some heartache no matter what.  That's what he gets for letting things go on as long as they have

By the time his last group of students has left him alone, the decision to break things off has already settled in.  All that's left is to plan it in such a way that Dean won't take the rejection as anything more than a natural ending to what was only supposed to be a fling anyway.  

He doesn't get very long you consider it because there's a knock on the frame of the classroom door.  And he once again finds himself facing Dean across an empty room.

Dean doesn't come in the room though.  He watches Jimmy closely, but his normally expressive face is a blank mask, hiding his thoughts.  "Hey, Jimmy."

Fuck, why does Dean have to talk to him with that damn voice?  Even when Dean isn't flirting, it's sexy as fuck and makes Jimmy want to climb him like a tree.  Jimmy is tempted to find a spell to lock Dean's voice away so he can protect himself from it.  But that would be torture for everyone involved, and he'd never do something so awful.

"Visiting me twice in one day, Professor Winchester?"  Jimmy puts a palm over his heart and bats his eyelashes.  "What if people start to talk?"

The teasing makes one corner of Dean's mouth twitch up, and he seems to let go of whatever serious thoughts he was having.  He saunters toward Jimmy and when he speaks, his Midwestern drawl is more pronounced.  "I just can't help myself, Professor Novak."  He crowds right into Jimmy's personal space, backing him up until his thighs are pressed against the hard edge of the desk.  His breath is hot against Jimmy's lips as he leans in, and his voice is rough.  "I can't seem to get enough."

When Dean kisses him it's aggressive and demanding, and every neuron in Jimmy's brain lights up, short circuiting most of his higher brain functions.  He has just enough brainpower left to reach out with his magic and cast a Do Not Disturb spell around the room.  

His last coherent thought before Dean completely overwhelms him is fuck it, I'm keeping him for as long as I can.  But then strong hands are sliding under his thighs and lifting him onto the desk, and he turns his thoughts to giving Dean as good as he gets.

***

He should walk away.  

The Do Not Disturb spell Jimmy cast doesn't affect Castiel, probably because he's so enthralled with Dean's hands running up the inside of his thighs that he'd forgotten to include his twin in the spell.  But Castiel still feels it tingling against his skin, whispering at him to leave, to look away, to forget the room he's standing just outside of doesn't even exist.

There's a tiny except you, Castiel underlying the spell, but he's sure his brother doesn't intend for him to witness what's happening right now.  Despite the fact that Jimmy has taken many lovers over the course of their lives and that he always comes home to Castiel with stories of his exploits, he's never done anything more than kiss someone in Castiel's presence.  It's a small gesture of respect that Castiel has noticed, but never thought too hard on.  

Castiel isn't jealous of Jimmy's lovers, after all.  He doesn't mind his brother's need for privacy while he's with them.  And he respects it.  As well as Dean's privacy, which Castiel is also violating by standing directly on the border of Jimmy's spell.  It drives everyone's attention from the open door.  Even Dean's.  

Which is why he should turn around and walk away.  He shouldn't watch the way Jimmy’s head tilts back to allow Dean access to his throat.  He shouldn't watch as Dean's fingers deftly unfasten Jimmy's pants and pulls them down over Jimmy's hips.  He shouldn't watch Dean's back curve so he can put his face between Jimmy's thighs.

From where he's standing Castiel's view of Dean's actions is partially blocked by Jimmy's thigh, but he can tell by Jimmy's moan that Dean is using his mouth.  Jimmy's voice always gets breathy at the end of a moan when he first feels the hot wet heat of a tongue against the head of his dick.  It's a beautiful sound Castiel has heard thousands of times, but it's different from a distance, and because he's not distracted by pulling those noises from Jimmy's lips himself, the experience feels all new.

His own lips part in a silent gasp when Jimmy threads his fingers through Dean's hair and guides his movements.  His thigh muscles flex and bunch each time he pulls Dean deeper between his legs.  

Castiel wishes his view of Jimmy's body weren't blocked by the clothes he still wears.  He wants to see his twin naked from this angle.  But the way his shirt bunches across his arms and shoulders, and the sound of his belt buckle jingling softly as his legs shift with his movements are also arousing to Castiel's senses.

Dean straightens, chuckling when Jimmy whines, begging him for more without words.  He pulls off one of Jimmy's shoes and tugs at his pants until they're hanging from one ankle.  "I wanna fuck you over this desk," he rumbles.

So far Castiel has mostly been watching Jimmy, but now his eyes snap to Dean's face.  He's always found Dean's voice pleasant, but in the heat of lust the deep timber is rougher, rubbing against Castiel almost like a physical thing.  

"You want that, Jim?"  Dean asks.

"Yes," Jimmy pants.

Dean puts two fingers to Jimmy's lips.  "Get 'em wet for me."

The gruff order triggers Castiel's own salivary glands and he swallows a mouth full of spit before he starts drooling.  He swallows again when he sees Dean's approving smile when Jimmy does as he's told.  With his free hand Dean manages to free his own erection from its confines and he strokes himself while Jimmy slurps obscenely at his fingers.

"That's good."  Dean pulls free and reaches between Jimmy's legs.  

Jimmy keens softly and slumps back on the desk, and Dean helps him scoot closer to the edge.  Then he conjures a condom and puts it in one handed - which Castiel has just enough brain power to be distantly impressed by - then chants in perfect Sumerian.  Jimmy's lifted knees shudder, and he laughs.  "Neat trick, Professor Winchester."

Dean winks.  "Might as well put the lube where it's needed, right?"

Jimmy kicks lightly at Dean's hip.  "Just don't give me a lube enema, man."

It's impossible not to smile at their teasing.  Castiel loves hearing his brother's laughter, and the way Dean's eyes glitter and his teeth flash behind his reddened lips is also irresistible.  He covers his own mouth to hold in his joy at seeing the two of them together.  As if merely smiling too much will attract their attention.  He's given up on trying to talk himself into turning away, and he wants desperately to see this to the finish.

He watches with hungry eyes as Dean nestles his hips between Jimmy's, breaching him carefully.  And he resists the need to blink as Dean starts thrusting deep and rough into Jimmy.

"Ah, fuck that feels good," Jimmy grunts.

"Yeah?" Dean's voice is breathy with exertion.

"Yeah.  Don't stop."

Despite not wanting to miss even a fraction of a second, Castiel finally blinks.  But in that brief disconnect from the scene before him something shifts in his perception.  Instead of his brother, Castiel sees himself on the desk with Dean between his legs.  His imagination supplies the phantom sensation of being fucked, of straining muscles, and burning lungs.

He blinks again and comes back to himself.  It wasn't real, just a trick of the mind, but it felt so real, despite seeing himself from the outside perspective.  

And… he’s hard.

His hand slips from his mouth and settles over the swelling bulge under his slacks.  The pressure of his palm is enough to make him bite his bottom lip in defense against the pleasure.  He doesn’t do more than cup himself through the cloth though.  

The desk is creaking under Jimmy’s body, and skin slaps against skin.  Jimmy is egging Dean on through his gasps and moans, and Dean is giving him everything he demands.  They’re beautiful together.  There’s no grace or elegance to their fucking.  It’s animalistic and the position is awkward, with Jimmy hanging onto the edge of the desk to keep from sliding across it, and Dean’s face going red with exertion.  But they’re beautiful anyway.  

Curious, Castiel opens his inner eye.  And what he sees takes his breath away.  As always, Jimmy’s aura sparkles and shimmers with every color of the visible spectrum, and then some that Castiel feels more than “sees”.  And Dean’s fire-bright soul pulses with power, the flaming wings at his shoulders arched high.  

The ugly mark on his arm is dull, and the rotten lines creeping out from it are barely visible, as if being burned away by Dean’s light.  Which is also seeping into Jimmy, making his colors flicker brighter and more vibrant.  Their auras pulse and flutter around each other, and Castiel is reminded of pictures of supernovae the scientists capture with their space telescopes.  

Jimmy’s back arches, his soul flaring so bright that Castiel squints his eyes against it, and he’s coming untouched all over his shirt.  Dean’s grin is all wicked delight and the rolling pace of his hips increases as he rushes to catch up.  Castiel holds his breath, waiting to see him reach his peak.  

And it’s spectacular.  The fiery wings of his soul flap and spread out, then curve around and down, wrapping around Jimmy as Dean’s physical body collapses down on top of him.  

Castiel takes a step back.  Soon, Jimmy will take down the Do Not Disturb spell, and he doesn’t want to be caught there watching them.  

Once outside the spell, Castiel shifts and takes flight.  He had intended to stay late at the library, but he doesn’t go back there.  Instead he ducks out an open window and makes his way toward one of the travel portals and goes straight home.

Less than an hour later, the front door of the house they share opens.  Castiel looks up to find Jimmy approaching him with concerned eyes.

“You okay, Cas?” Jimmy kneels down next to the couch where Castiel is sitting and rubs a hand over Castiel’s thigh.  “You’re not usually home this early.  I figured you’d be at the library.”

Castiel puts the book he’d been staring at blankly instead of reading to the side.  For once, the words on the page had been unable to keep his attention, because his mind kept wandering back to what he’d witnessed in Jimmy’s classroom.  Replaying it over and over, sometimes with himself in Jimmy’s place, which confuses and arouses Castiel in equal measures.  

“I was going to stay late,” Castiel says.  The scent of sex wafts up from Jimmy’s body, and Castiel shivers a little when he inhales.  “But I came to check on you after your classes, since you were acting oddly at lunch today.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened.  “Uh… right after?”

Castiel nods.  He doesn’t need to explain.  He can see that Jimmy understands.  

“So, uh… sorry if you got an eyeful.”  Jimmy’s cheeks flush, but he grins.  “Dean apparently had the same idea about checking on me, and it… got out of hand.”

“Don’t apologize.”  Castiel runs his fingers through Jimmy’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp until his hand rests over the back of Jimmy’s neck.  With gentle pressure he pulls his brother close and presses a kiss to Jimmy’s lips.  He smiles when he pulls back enough for their eyes to meet.  “You were gorgeous together.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up with curiosity.  “Yeah?”

Castiel moves Jimmy’s hand from his thigh up to the persistent bulge between his legs.  It’s been an annoying constant since he’d witnessed Jimmy and Dean together.  He could have taken care of it himself, but he felt no need.  Now that Jimmy is here though, need rises up in Castiel and he wants his brother’s touch.

“Oh,” Jimmy breathes out in awe.  “Do you want… can I…?”

“Make me come,” Castiel murmurs against Jimmy’s lips as he leans in for a deeper kiss.  

Jimmy obeys.  He wrings Castiel dry, coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from his body, and then some.  Leaving him exhausted and sated.  

It’s as he’s falling asleep wrapped around Jimmy that he remembers the reason he’d gone down to Jimmy’s classroom in the first place.  During lunch his twin had gone serious and quiet, which is normally Castiel’s role.  When Castiel silently questioned him, Jimmy had brushed away his concern, but there was something churning in Jimmy’s mind, hiding just behind the walls that Castiel would never breach without permission.  

Whatever it was, it doesn’t seem to be bothering Jimmy now.  He’s snoring lightly already, his body warm and relaxed against Castiel’s.  If he’s sleeping so deeply it must not be too serious.  So Castiel decides to let it go for now.  Jimmy will talk to him about it if he feels like he needs to.

Castiel closes his eyes and slips into dreams about green eyes and blue eyes, and two sets of lips against his skin.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Warning for dub-con in this chapter.

Chapter Text

If you're keeping my brother out late you'd better feed him.

Dean grins at his phone and taps out a response with both thumbs.  You're not worried about whether I'll miss dinner?

Like you'd ever forget to eat.  Glutton.

I'm not feeling the love here, Dean sends back.

I call bullshit. After the dicking I gave you last night you're definitely feeling it.

Jimmy's message pulls a full laugh out of him, which he quickly stifles when several students lift their heads from their studies to look at him, some with mild curiosity and others with annoyed censure.  He's definitely walking with a little more swagger than usual today, and also sitting down a little more carefully.  When Dean had asked for it rough, Jimmy had delivered.  He's bruised inside and out.  

They are fading quickly due to the quick healing side effect of his curse, which is another reason to hate it.  As if dreaming about committing brutal murders and having a grand old time doing it isn't enough.

But he does wish the finger shaped bruises on his hips would stick around a little longer.  Seeing them in the mirror that morning had made his heart flutter.  Just as teasing Jimmy about loving him does.  Which is dangerous as fuck.  He should back off, if not end things completely.  He should definitely stop thinking about Jimmy as his boyfriend.  They haven't talked about it, but with or without the label, that's how they've been acting.

His good humor fades a little.  He doesn't want to stop seeing Jimmy.  Things between them are good.  Damn good.  And Dean hasn't been this happy in years.  Certainly not since he took the mark on his arm.  Jimmy makes him feel…

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel's voice startles Dean out of his thoughts.  The rush of adrenaline makes the mark throb angrily, its insidious voice urging him to grab, choke, kill.  It's a sign of how mellow he's been since he started seeing Jimmy that he doesn't even twitch to obey the damned thing.  Usually he has to keep a very tight leash on himself when someone sneaks up on him.  

Although not very many can.  Castiel is an exception.  The dude makes less noise than a shadow.

"Dude, you need a bell," Dean grumbles as he puts his phone away.

Castiel's face scrunches up in thought.  "That would disturb the students."

He looks like a confused kitten, and it's far too cute for a grown man, but it's a look that works for Castiel.  The dark pall over Dean's mood lifts, and a real smile tugs at his lips.  "I dunno, they may appreciate knowing you're coming.  You creep around here like a damn ghost."

Castiel's eyes crinkle when he smiles.  "If they're afraid of me they'll be less likely to forget to turn their books back in."

Dean chuckles and shakes his head.  "Terrifying the student body just to make them bring back books?  That's just cruel, Cas.  And I thought you were the nice twin."

"Jimmy and I have far more in common than you think," Castiel objects with a snort.

Something in the way he says it makes heat rise up under Dean's skin.  And he immediately chides himself for his reaction.  There was nothing suggestive about Castiel's tone, so his reaction is ridiculous.  

Plus it makes him feel like a complete heel.

Yeah sure, he's attracted to Castiel.  He looks just like the man Dean is fucking on the regular.  But there are differences too.  Dean has no problem telling them apart.  Jimmy practically crackles with energy.  He's always moving, whether it's tapping his fingers against his thigh or a tabletop, or just bouncing slightly in his shoes.  Castiel's eyes burn with intensity, but it's held in check behind a wall of calm and serenity.  Sometimes Dean catches himself matching his breathing to Castiel's just to soak in a tiny bit of that stillness.

Which is totally weird, but it's unconscious so he's fucked if anyone notices and calls him out on it.

Castiel interrupts Dean's internal lecture for perving on the wrong twin by beckoning Dean to follow him deeper into the library.  "I found something I think you'll be interested in," he says softly enough that his voice only carries to Dean.  "It's a sidhe grimoire."

That does interest Dean.  "Really?  And does it contain curses?"

"I'm not entirely sure."  As he passes between the shelves Castiel drags his fingertips across the spines of books.  Seeing them bump and slide over the leather makes Dean's skin tingle.  "It's written in the language of the Fae, and I've never been to their realm so I'm unable to read it."  He casts a regretful look over his shoulder.  "It probably won't be much use.  But I thought you might like to see it anyway."

They've entered an open space at the back of the restricted section with a long table.  It's unoccupied because very few people are allowed access to the area.  There are several books stacked on one end that Castiel heads for.  He lifts the top book from the pile and offers it to Dean.

Familiar magic buzzes through Dean's skin when he accepts the book, and when he flips it open the pages are filled with a flowing script that looks like it's written in quicksilver.  He glances up at Castiel with a conspiratorial smile.  "Won't be a problem.  I can read it."

Castiel's eyes widen in surprise which is quickly overtaken by intense curiosity.  "You've been to the fairy lands?"

"Yeah, once."  Dean pulls out a chair and sits.  He pulls out the chair next to his own in a wordless invitation for Castiel to join him, then he conjures a notepad and pen for taking notes.  Sam got him a fancy laptop, but he still prefers to do his initial notes the old fashioned way because the process of scratching out his thoughts in ink helps him organise them.  "I pissed off a leprechaun and he abducted me as a prank.  Made it look like I was being beamed up to an alien ship."  Dean snorts and rolls his eyes.  “Like aliens even exist.”

Castiel takes the seat and leans into Dean's personal space.  "How did you get back?"

It used to make Dean nervous when Castiel would get so close.  The clean smell of his skin and the sweet watermelon scent of what Dean assumes is his shampoo of choice tickles his senses, tempting him to narrow the gap between them even further.  And up close, Castiel's stare is even more intense.  Dean wouldn't say he's gotten used to it exactly, but after a while he's stopped feeling like a bug under a microscope when Castiel looks at him like that.  And he kinda likes being the focus of all that attention.

So instead of leaning away, he tilts his head forward until the Castiel's features blur a little.  Despite the absence of anyone who could listen in, Dean lowers his voice as if imparting a secret.  "I found a pretty little fairy who appreciated my skill with my tongue, and she felt she needed to repay me for the week I spent with her by showing me the way back home."

They're close enough that Dean feels Castiel's surprised huff against his lips at the same time the blue of his irises narrows around expanding pupils.

"You must be considerably talented," Castiel murmurs.

It's on the tip of Dean's tongue to offer a demonstration.

Wrong twin, shithead!

Dean blinks and sits back.  Castiel doesn't move, watching Dean with unblinking eyes.  Other than his blown out pupils, his expression is merely curious, but as laser focused as ever.

"Yeah, uh..."  Dean clears his throat and turns his attention back to the fancy handwritten letters on the page, even though his concentration is shot so it just looks like loopy scrawl at the moment.  "She thought so anyway."

Castiel hums thoughtfully and leans back in his chair.  Dean instantly wishes he would come back, which is all kinds of fucked up.  He's with Jimmy!  And if he has any plans to keep going with the relationship in any capacity, he really really needs to stop perving on Castiel.  It's just really fucking hard when Castiel looks at him like he wants to eat him.

Or maybe he isn't.  Jimmy has mentioned that Castiel doesn't pursue physical or romantic relationships.  Dean might just be projecting.  

He must be, because Castiel gestures causally at the grimoire as if they weren't just discussing Dean's oral prowess.  "Will you read a page for me?  I'd very much like to know more about its contents."

Pull it together, Winchester.  Luckily his own curiosity distracts him.  He frowns at Castiel.  "If you can't read it, how do you know I might need it for my research?"

"There's notes in the back by a previous archivist."  Castiel reaches out and gently flips to the last pages, where he taps a well manicured fingertip against the crackling paper.  There's chicken scratches that Dean only recognizes as English if he squints and suspends his disbelief.  "As you can see, he left very little to go by, but he does explain that there are some curses and their counters in the contents."

"You can read that?"  Dean lifts a disbelieving eyebrow.

Castiel's smile is smaller than his twin's gummy grin, but no less radiant.  "I have many years of study under my belt.  Although I admit, sometimes trying to decipher it gives me a worse headache than translating High Demonic."

Dean laughs and shakes his head at Castiel's light humor.  "Dude, you're lucky you haven't gone blind squinting at this for more than a few minutes."

"True," Castiel agrees with a soft chuckle.  “So can you read a little bit of that to me?”

Dean looks back down at the book and flips through the pages.  “Probably not a good idea before I’ve studied it some more.  I can see the writing, but I’m not fluent in the language, and I’d hate to hex you on accident.  Think if I transcribed it that Jimmy could help me translate?”

“Of course he would.  He likes you.”  

The words are innocent, but the emphasis makes it sound like Castiel is talking about a middle school crush.  Dean snorts and rolls his eyes.  “He’s got terrible taste.”

Castiel’s smile fades.  “You don’t really think that do you?”

“Well, yeah.  I mean-” Dean gestures at himself.  “I know I’m pretty on the outside, but the inside is all kinds of fucked up.”

Now Castiel is outright frowning.  “You shouldn’t say things like that, Dean.”

“I should if it’s the truth,” Dean snaps.  He instantly regrets it when Castiel recoils slightly.  But Castiel doesn’t know him.  Sure they hang out a lot, with and without Jimmy around.  But he only gets to see the parts of Dean that are safe.  The shadows and the stains are kept hidden under a metaphorical rug, and neither twin will ever see them if Dean has his way.

He’s trying to figure out how to apologize for his shortness when Castiel bridges the gap between them, laying tentative fingers against Dean’s forearm, just short of touching the hidden mark.  “Is it because of this?”

Dean bats Castiel’s hand away and scrambles out of his chair.  Adrenaline floods his system, and the mark is a searing brand on his skin.  He presses his palm over it in an attempt to ease the pain, but it only flares higher.  Its voice wordlessly urges for violence, and he grits his teeth against its influence.  When Castiel stands and takes a step toward him, Dean retreats double the distance.  “Don’t, Cas!”

Castiel goes still, watching him like he’s a feral dog cornered in alley.  Which would be pretty accurate, because that’s what he feels like at the moment.  

He takes several deep breaths, forcing his mind to go blank.  The burn in his arm begins to fade, along with the bloodthirsty voice in his ears.  It doesn’t take long to regain control of himself.  He’s had several years of practice.  If every little adrenaline rush flipped his switch, he’d still be locked away in the bunker in voluntary house arrest.  

“Dean?”

“How did you know, Cas?” Dean knows his camouflaging spell is still in place.  It hasn’t weakened at all, and he checks it daily.

Castiel pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and glances down at where Dean is still gripping his arm tightly.  He lets his lip slip free of his teeth, and Dean zeros in on how damp it is, staring at it as Castiel speaks.  “I can See it.”

That brings Dean’s gaze back up to Castiel’s.  “You… what?”

“I have Sight.” Castiel touches the center of his forehead.  “I can See it.  Is it as painful as it looks?”

He doesn’t answer right away because it takes a moment for it to sink in what Castiel is telling him.  And then his heart clenches painfully.  “Is the Mark all you can see?”

“No…” Castiel hesitates, sensing that Dean isn’t going to like his answer.  “I see you.”

“You see me.  What part of me?” Dean demands.

Castiel gestures at Dean, and his eyes unfocus.  Now that he knows what he’s looking for, Dean recognizes the signs.  Castiel is looking at him with his inner eye.  “I see all of you.”

"Don't look," Dean snarls.  He backs up some more, head swinging around in search for a place to hide, although he knows that people with Sight are not always hindered by physical objects.  “I don’t want you looking at my soul, Cas.”

“But Dean...”

An adrenaline rush may not send Dean into the danger zone, but anger definitely does.  And knowing that Castiel has been looking at his worn and tattered soul enrages him.  He wants to tear into the man with his bare hands and his teeth and taste his blood.  But at the same time, he doesn’t want that.  

This is his friend.  This is Cas.

So he does the only other thing that will allow him to release some of the violence building up inside him.

***

Castiel sucks in a surprised breath when instead of retreating further, Dean stalks toward him.  Instinct moves his feet, and he stumbles backwards, clumsily attempting to escape the apex predator bearing down on him.  But in his shock at the sudden change in Dean’s demeanor he’s too slow, and Dean uses his larger frame to cage Castiel against the nearest bookshelf.

Dean closes the space between them, and cups Castiel’s jaw.  It’s not exactly gentle, but Castiel can feel a tremble in Dean’s fingers as if he’s holding back his strength.

The calluses on Dean’s hand catch against Castiel’s stubble, and without conscious thought, he leans into the touch.  “Dean-”

He doesn’t know what he intended to say, but it doesn’t matter.  Dean leans in and presses a kiss against Castiel’s slack mouth.  

Castiel expected violence.  He could see the gathering storm in Dean’s eyes.  And the ugly mark on his arm, hidden to normal eyes is flaring with power, the lines growing from it becoming thicker and more grotesque as they wrap tighter around Dean.  It looks so painful that Castiel closes his inner eye against it, not wanting to see Dean’s suffering.

He did not expect to be kissed.  Or for the sudden heat of need rising up inside him.  Without thought Castiel kisses him back, pushing into Dean, tasting him, mapping the shape of Dean’s mouth with his own.

Dean makes a small noise of surprise, but it turns into a pleased moan.  He presses the length of his body into Castiel, shoving him up against the bookshelf hard enough that it would fall over if it weren’t held stationary by powerful spellwork.  His other hand comes up to circle Castiel’s throat, loosely, but the strength in his grip is obviously restrained.  He slides his tongue past Castiel’s lips, and Castiel meets it with his own.  Dean tastes slightly of onions, but Castiel chases the flavor, enthralled with the experience of kissing someone other than Jimmy.  He catalogues all the differences.  The depth of Dean’s tongue in his mouth, the way he focuses first on his top lip, then his bottom before spreading his jaw wide and forcing Castiel to do the same.  Even the shape of his mouth is deliciously different.

There’s a buzzing under Castiel’s skin, spreading out from his groin.  He doesn’t realize that he’s hard until his body moves in response to the building pressure inside it, and he gasps into the kiss when his hips rub against Dean’s.

Dean lifts his head, and stares down at Castiel with hooded eyes.  His hand slips from Castiel’s throat, down over his tie, and the front of his slacks, until he’s cupping Castiel’s straining erection.  Castiel bucks into the touch, and Dean chuckles darkly.  “Well well, what do we have here?”  He leans in to nip at Castiel’s jaw, then his earlobe.  His breath is warm and damp against Castiel’s ear. “Want me to take care of this for you?”

Unable to form words, Castiel nods.

He doesn’t know why.  Not only is Dean radiating danger and barely restrained violence, but Castiel’s body has never responded this way to anyone but Jimmy before.  Now it is completely out of his control.  It -he- wants Dean’s touch, and he doesn’t have enough experience denying himself to do so now.  

“How do you want it?” Dean murmurs, his lips tickling the shell of Castiel’s ear.  “Do you want my hand?” He squeezes, making Castiel suck in a surprised breath.  Then he traces Castiel’s ear with his tongue.  “Or do you want my mouth?”

“Yes,” Castiel huffs.

“Yes to what?”

Castiel licks his lips, then forces them to shape words.  “Your mouth.”

“Good choice,” Dean purrs just before going down to his knees.  

And what a beautiful sight he is down there.  Castiel watches, fascinated as Dean’s thick fingers work at his belt, and then the fly of his slacks.  The flex of the tendons hold his attention until he feels the warmth of Dean’s fingers pulling him through the opening of his boxers.

Dean looks up at him, his eyes dark with intent, and leans in to swipe his tongue over the head of Castiel’s dick where it’s peeking out from his foreskin.  He feels a ping-fizzle-pop deep in his brain when Dean winks at him before pulling the skin back and taking Castiel into the wet heat of his mouth.

“Dean.” The syllable feels so pleasant inside his mouth that he says it again.  “Dean…”

As Dean sucks him deeper, Castiel’s thoughts - fragmented and chaotic - settle on his brother.  Jimmy has been going to Dean’s home almost nightly and coming home to share his experiences with Castiel.  He’s described Dean’s mouth, the pink stretch of his lips, the green-gold of his eyes looking up from this exact angle.  He’s talked about the silky texture of Dean’s hair between his fingers, and Castiel grips the short spiky strands now, not to guide but merely to experience what he’s only heard described before.  

Jimmy is a master of words, both in his native tongue and in a hundred other languages.  His descriptions of Dean’s mouth and hands painted sensual pictures in Castiel’s mind, bringing them both to the peak of pleasure.  But experiencing Dean’s lips and the heat of his hand stroking what he can’t take into his mouth is, for lack of a better word because Castiel has forgotten most of the ones he knows, magical.

He can feel his body climbing a peak he’s only ever been to with Jimmy.  It’s disorienting, yet thrilling.  His eyes take in every detail of the man kneeling at his feet.  Freckled skin marked with experience and laugh lines.  His nose is slightly crooked, broken in his past and healed not quite right.  His lashes are a long, framing beautiful green eyes flecked with gold.  

Slowly, carefully, he opens his inner eye so he can see Dean’s soul.  Up close he can see the threads of the curse caging him, holding him inside a net too small for his soul’s immense size.  

And yet, the soul pulses under and through the strands, stretching them almost to the breaking point, while also seeming to absorb them.  Its light seems to reach out to him, the wings at Dean’s back curling forward and cocooning them.  And Castiel lets himself respond, reaching out with his own inner light.  When they touch for the first time, his whole body shudders.

Dean pulls off and looks up at Castiel with hooded eyes.  “You gonna come for me, Cas?”

Castiel pulls back and slams the shutters over his Sight, but it’s too late.  His dick pulses, and he’s coming in thick ropes of pearly white that land over Dean’s cheeks and lips.  When he sees Dean’s tongue flick out to lick Castiel’s come from his skin, his knees go weak, and only the shelf digging into his shoulder blades keeps him from sliding to the floor.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Dean rasps.  He pushes up to his feet and kisses Castiel, smearing semen between their lips.  His hand fumbles for Castiel’s, guiding it to the bulge in his pants.  He humps into it, gasping praise against Castiel’s mouth.  “Feel how hard I am for you?  Shit, I’m gonna… gonna come in mnuh-

Wet heat spreads through the cloth under Castiel’s palm, and he’s filled with the same intense satisfaction he gets whenever he makes Jimmy come.  He did that.  He made this beautiful man come apart in the most basic way possible.  

Dean’s chest heaves, and Castiel can feel his heartbeat through the layers of their shirts.  Its beat counters his own, filling the spaces between each thump.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean sighs.  “I haven’t come in my pants in… fuck, years.”

Castiel has never come like that for anyone but Jimmy.

Unable to meet Dean’s eyes, Castiel looks down.  His belt and pants are still loose around his hips, his now flaccid dick peeking from his boxers.  Shame burns in his cheeks.  He’s not sure if he’s upset with himself for enjoying sex with someone besides Jimmy, or if he’s upset that he might have ruined Jimmy’s relationship with Dean.  But he’s not okay.  Not okay at all.  And his body moves without conscious thought, shoving Dean away.

The transformation comes quickly, his body shrinking down into its feathered form.  His wings lift him above Dean’s head, and over the bookshelves.  He doesn’t have a destination in mind, only an intense desire to escape, and he lets his wings carry him away.

Chapter 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

After teasing Dean about the hitch in his gait, Jimmy pockets his phone and gathers up his laptop and his bag and heads for his office.  He'd much rather go hang out in the library with his two favorite bookworms, but it's his scheduled office hours and he needs to be available to his students.  

Since it’s still fairly early in the year and he hasn’t given students any truly difficult work yet, Jimmy’s office is blessedly empty of anyone but himself.  Only one student comes in requesting suggestions for alternative study material, and then he has the rest of the time to work on a translation Crowley asked him to look at.  His High Demonic is rusty, but he’d accepted the challenge and is quite enjoying it, even if the unnatural shapes on the manuscript give him a headache after staring at them for a while.

He’s so engrossed in his work that the vibration of his phone in his pocket startles him, and he jumps slightly in his chair.  Rubbing the ache in his temples with thumb and forefinger spread wide around his temples, he pulls his phone out and answers without looking at the screen.  “Hello?”

“Jimmy?  Where are you right now?”

Blinking at the sharp edge in Dean’s words, Jimmy looks around at the plain and uncluttered room.  “I’m in my office.”

“Good, stay put.  I’m on my way.”

“What?  Dean?” When there’s no response, he looks at his screen to see the timer blinking nine seconds, indicating the call had already ended.  “What the hell?”

Dean had sounded strange, almost panicked.  And thinking about what could have freaked out someone like Dean Winchester, a man who Jimmy knows is descended from a family of Hunters and the Men of Letters, makes chills race over his skin.  He’s tempted to call Dean back and demand details, but Dean told him to stay where he is, and the best course of action if he wants to find out what is going on is to obey the order and wait for him.

He tries to go back to his translation while he waits, but the words blur before his eyes.  His concentration is shot to hell now.  And he’s distracted anyway by a clatter at the open window on the far side of the room.  He looks up in time to see Castiel make an ungraceful landing on the ledge, his dark cream colored wings spreading to help him keep his balance.

Jimmy leaps up from his desk and crosses the small space.  He keeps the window open specifically for Castiel to come visit him, but his brother is always the epitome of grace in his animagus form.  Jimmy hasn’t seen him falter since they were boys and Castiel was first learning to fly.  

He reaches out to touch his brother, but jerks his hands back when Castiel snaps his beak at him and arches his wings.  “Cas?”

Castiel swivels his head up.  Unblinking blue eyes stare up at him, the only sign that he’s not a true owl since barn owls have black eyes.  His wings settle down, and he hops closer.  His mind-voice pushes into Jimmy's brain with less finesse than usual and it's laced with anxiety and stress.  Jimmy… I-I did something- he stutters to a halt and keens.  The mind link snaps, making Jimmy wince when the abrupt disconnect aggravates his headache.

And now Jimmy is freaking the fuck out.  Castiel doesn’t get upset.  He is always the eye of Jimmy’s storm.  His calm is one of the defining traits of his personality, but right now he is radiating distress.  It’s so bad that he can’t maintain the connection that allows them to speak mind to mind.  Jimmy tries to scoop Castiel up, but his brother easily avoids his hold, flapping his wings and dancing backwards on his talons.

He's about to try and initiate the mind link himself even though he's not as good at it as his brother, but there's a knock on the door.  It opens before Jimmy can respond, and Dean slips through the opening.  "Jimmy, we gotta talk-" he freezes just inside when his eyes land on them.  His cheeks, ruddy from the run he must have made to get there, go pale.  "Castiel."

A sharp hiss and a clack of his beak are Castiel's only response before a powerful flap of his wings carries him back out the window.  Jimmy forgets Dean for the moment and leans out after him, watching his silhouette recede across the sky.  He just barely manages not to knock his head on the sill when he whips back around to confront Dean.  "What the fuck is going on?"

Dean flinches at the anger in Jimmy's tone, but stands his ground.  "I messed up," he announces in a shaky voice.  "Bad."

No one would ever look at Jimmy and see a dangerous man.  He is a scholar, and a skilled magician.  He spends his time translating manuscripts in dead languages and passing on his skills to younger generations.  He's quick to smile and laugh, and has no problem befriending strangers.

But anyone who thinks that is all there is to James Novak are dead wrong.  Power normally resting dormant flares to life, and the bulbs in the light fixtures above them pop, raining sparks and shards of glass on the occupants of the room.  "Did you hurt my brother?" he demands in a deceptively level tone.

To Dean's credit, he doesn't look scared of the power suddenly vibrating the air molecules around them, causing dust motes to swirl in frantic patterns.  He takes a deep breath, and faces Jimmy squarely, ready to accept whatever wrath he's about to bring down on himself with his answer.  "I don't think I did anything to physically hurt him, but what I did isn't forgivable.  By either of you."

That sounds bad.  Very bad.  Jimmy's fists clench.  "Tell me."

Dean's eyes bounce around for a moment before coming back to Jimmy.  He looks devastated, which doesn't help to calm Jimmy at all.  "I kinda molested him in the library."

Jimmy's brows furrow and he tilts his head, a gesture normally used by Castiel when he's confused by humanity.  "What?  You-what do you mean?"

"Okay, just... I was mad and-"  Dean runs a hand through his hair, rearranging the spikes which were already an untamed mess.  That hand drops to his opposite arm and he digs his thumb into his inner forearm as if he’s pressing into a bruise.  "I know it's fucking stupid, but I wasn't thinking straight and when I kissed him, he kissed me back and-"

"What?"

"-I got caught up in it.  And... Fuck." Dean brings both hands up to his face, hiding it from Jimmy's stare.  His voice is muffled against his palms.  "I went down on him."  He drops his hands again and looks at Jimmy with pleading, desperate eyes.  "I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear to god, Jimmy."

Jimmy's protective rage fizzles out under the weight of his shock.  "You... gave Castiel a blow job?"

Dean nods, watching Jimmy warily.

"And he didn't stop you?"

"Look, don't be mad at your brother," Dean urges.  "It’s my fault.  I started it, and you and Cas both have the right to be mad at me for this.  I know you and I haven’t really talked about being exclusive or whatever, but messing around with your brother is not cool and-"

"Dean."  The way Dean looks at him when he cuts off tugs at Jimmy's heart and he can already feel himself softening towards the man.  He sighs, and some of his anger goes out with the long puff of air.  "I'm not upset with you for being with Castiel."  If he wasn’t so worried about Castiel, he’d be amused by the way Dean’s mouth drops open.  “You're right, we're not exclusive."

It's Dean's turn to sigh.  His next words are so quiet that Jimmy almost doesn't catch them.  "Yeah, well I kind of wanted to be."

"Really?"  Something warm blossoms inside him, but he quickly stifles it.  Now is not the time to be distracted by his feelings for Dean.

Dean nods, dropping his eyes to the floor between them.  "I fucked that up though."  His eyes come back up, brimming with unshed tears.  "I am so sorry."

Dropping his face into his palm, Jimmy takes a deep breath.  He can't deal with Dean's apology right now.  Not while he can almost feel his twin's distress despite the fact that they aren't in physical contact.  "Dean... I need some time.  I need to make sure Castiel is okay, because if he isn't..."

Dean nods his understanding.  "I get it.  Will you tell him I'm sorry?  I'd tell him myself, but..." he waves at the window where Castiel disappeared as soon as Dean showed up.  "I’m pretty sure he doesn't want to talk to me."

Jimmy drops his hand and looks at Dean again, wishing he had his brother's ability to view auras so he can see the truth in Dean's words.   The information he gets through touch is not as clear, and he doesn't trust it as much as he trusts Castiel's insights.  But it's all he's got, so he holds out his hand, palm up.  "Give me your hand."

Dean complies immediately, which Jimmy takes as a good sign.  As soon as their skin touches, Jimmy feels the warm tingle of Dean's soul seeping into his palm.

"Did you force my brother to do something he didn't want to do?”

"I swear, Jimmy, he seemed like he wanted it. And when I asked him-" Dean's face flushes, and his eyes skitter away briefly before coming back to Jimmy's.  But there's no hesitation hiding in the green. "-I asked if he wanted my hand or my mouth, and he said he wanted my mouth."

Despite his shock that Castiel asked Dean to go down on him, he senses no change in the current of Dean’s energy.  He knows that Dean believes what he's saying.  But Jimmy still needs to hear Castiel's version of the story.  He needs to find out why his brother is so upset.

"Okay."  He releases Dean's hand.  "Thank you, for that."

To his credit, Dean doesn't prod to see if he's forgiven.  He nods and backs toward the door.  "I'm just... You'll tell him I'm sorry, right?"

"I will."

"Thanks, Jimmy."  Dean gives him a long look, guilt and longing and hope flickering over his expression.  He lifts a hand in a small wave.  "I guess... Call me.  If you want.  If not, well."  His shrug says he understands.  And then he disappears, leaving Jimmy alone to try and figure out what the hell to do next.

***

Even though it's only late October, the nights are already cold enough to be uncomfortable, even when his body is shrouded in feathers.  As an owl, Castiel’s physical tolerance for the cold is high, but his human brain rebels against the discomfort anyway.  He could endure it if necessary, but he needs to go home.  Needs to face his brother.  And staying out until nearly midnight without letting Jimmy know where he is or what he’s been doing is cruel.

So he lets the cold chase him to the small house he shares with his brother.  It bites more deeply when he shifts to his human form as his feet touch down on the front porch.  There's a window kept open for him to fly through at the back of the house, but he feels it would be better to stop hiding within his animagus form, and face his twin as a human.  As the equals they are.  Because they have always been two halves of a whole, their souls still entwined as tightly as their bodies had been before birth.

The door opens on silent hinges, and a gust of warm air that smells like italian food rushes over him.  He quickly goes inside, shutting it behind him to keep the heat from escaping.  The house is silent, but well lit.  Jimmy is home, and Castiel sets out to find him.  He follows his nose to the kitchen and isn’t surprised to find Jimmy at the stove, stirring seasonings into a large pot that probably contains the bolognese sauce that Castiel loves so much.

Whether he makes a noise or not, Jimmy senses his presence immediately.  He spins around, and his whole body sags with relief before he’s pulling Castiel into a tight hug.  Castiel’s fingers curl into Jimmy’s shirt and he buries his face against his brother’s neck, breathing in his scent.  

Everything about Jimmy is as familiar to him as his own body.  The shape of his shoulders, and the firmness of his muscles.  The way his clothes take on the warmth of the skin underneath.  Even the scent of his breath and the soft tickle of his hair against Castiel’s ear.  There’s nothing about Jimmy’s body that he doesn’t know intimately.  And the same is true in reverse.  

But unlike Castiel’s body, Jimmy has shared his with other lovers.  Men and women, and those in between.  Not even all of them were human.  Never once did Castiel feel like those experiences changed his brother in anyway.  Not in his eyes.  Jimmy is Jimmy.  Castiel’s other half.  They share a soul and a grace, and the minor differences in their physical bodies mean nothing in comparison.

Now he wonders though.  Did his experience with Dean change something in himself?  His body feels different, slightly tight as if trying to hold in more of his essence than it was designed for.  It reminds him of when he was young and started learning to shape-shift.  Before he found the form that suited him best, and he’d try different species, each one feeling awkward and ungainly.  

But it’s not quite the same experience.  Those shapes didn’t fit him.  This one does, but he’s grown inside it, and it hasn’t yet stretched out to fit the new girth of his true form.  He can feel it happening, though.  Slowly.  The skin cells multiplying as fast as they can to accommodate him.

He feels altered.  Immeasurably so.  

Jimmy’s arms loosen, but only long enough to turn and shut off the stove.  Then he guides Castiel out of the kitchen to the living room and pulls him down on their ugly couch, stretching his legs out along the cushions and pulling Castiel between them.  He lies back and Castiel’s body blankets his, their chests pressed together while their heartbeats match up.  Long fingers, nearly identical to his own, comb through Castiel’s hair, brushing it away from his eyes and his temples.  Jimmy doesn’t ask any questions, just offers silent comfort, and Castiel’s muscles go limp.  He sinks into his brother and soaks in his presence.  The only thing that would make it better would be if there were no clothing separating their skin, but he’s not willing to separate enough to disrobe.  There’s probably a spell to banish their clothing to the ninth level of Hell, but Castiel isn’t able to recall one at the moment, and it’s not that important.  

After a long moment, Castiel exhales.  The last of his tension escapes with the discarded air, and he feels a little more like himself when he breathes in.  “I’m sorry if I worried you,” he murmurs against Jimmy’s cheek.  

“It’s fine, as long as you’re alright.”

Castiel smiles.  “I believe I am.  Confused, but alright.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Castiel lets his mind wander to the events of the afternoon.  He recalls the beauty of Dean’s soul, and the power in his touch.  The way their souls crackled and sparked with energy when Castiel timidly reached out to make contact.

“I think I fell in love,” Castiel murmurs.

Jimmy’s fingers pause for a heartbeat, then continue their path along Castiel’s scalp.  “With Dean?”

“Yes.” Castiel closes his eyes, bracing for his brother’s reaction.

“Oh.” Jimmy’s palm settles on the back of Castiel’s neck, and he massages the muscles there.  “I’m in love too.”

Castiel lifts his head, and searches Jimmy’s eyes.  “With Dean?”

“Yes.  I’ve been fighting it, but he’s just…” Jimmy trails off, at a loss for words despite having so many at his disposal.

“Beautiful,” Castiel murmurs.

“Kind,” Jimmy adds.  “Funny, and thoughtful, and he has really good taste in music.  And he’s a little bit of a neat freak.  You should see his room.  It would probably drive you crazy.”

“Cleanliness and order do not drive me crazy.” Castiel scowls at his brother, although there is no heat to it.  “I just don’t think you need to make the bed every morning.”

“You don’t like it that I ruin your nest.”  Jimmy grins when Castiel’s scowl deepens.  “C’mon, Feathers.  Admit it.”

Refusing to admit to anything, Castiel retreats from the argument by putting his face back down on Jimmy’s shoulder.  Jimmy’s chuckle rumbles up from his chest, the vibration moving through Castiel’s body.

“So you fell in love with Dean, and that upset you?” Jimmy asks after another long moment.

“I didn’t really have time to think about it.  I was caught up in the moment,” Castiel admits.  “He’s very…”

“Good with his mouth?”

Castiel huffs, but concedes the point.  “Yes.”

“No kidding.” There’s a smile in Jimmy’s voice.

“You’re not upset?” Castiel holds his breath waiting for the answer.  He’s never felt jealous of Jimmy’s lovers, even now that he knows Jimmy’s heart is involved and not just his body.  As always, Jimmy’s happiness is what he cares most about in the world.

And maybe that of a green-eyed wizard, as well.  He’s still trying to sort through his emotional reaction to the man, but worry that he may have hurt Dean’s feelings by fleeing from him earlier is already starting to seep into Castiel’s thoughts.

“I’m not upset, Cas.  Not for that anyway.  I was worried about you, and pissed at Dean for whatever he did-”

Castiel pushes up onto his hands, holding himself above Jimmy.  “It’s not his fault.  I provoked him, and when he kissed me, I- I lost control of myself.”  He looks away, and he feels a blush heating his cheeks.  “I’ve never felt like that before… not with anyone but you.  I didn’t know how…”

Jimmy reaches up with both hands and cups Castiel’s cheeks.  The action makes Castiel meet his brother’s eyes again, and he’s relieved to see Jimmy’s warm smile.  “I think it’s fantastic, Cas.  I really do.” His teeth flash in a wicked grin.  “I just wish I could have seen it.  You’re so damn gorgeous when you get caught up in your body.  Did you come?  You did, didn’t you?”

Castiel nods, shyly pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.  

“Fuck,” Jimmy breathes, his eyes unfocusing, probably turning inward to imagine the scenario.  “Will you tell me about it?”

In the past, it was always Castiel asking that question.  This is new territory, and yet so very familiar.  A mirror image of past experiences.  It sends a thrill of arousal through Castiel’s body, and the tightness he’s been feeling for the last few hours eases.  

“When we kissed, he tasted like onions,” Castiel recalls.  He grins when Jimmy’s nose wrinkles.  “His hands are rough, just like you said they are.  But he never caused me pain when he touched me.”  He can feel himself growing hard at the memory, and he shifts his hips against Jimmy’s, sighing at the friction.  “His lips were beautiful stretching around me, and his tongue was so wet and hot…”

Jimmy groans and rolls his own hips up.  The evidence of his arousal digs into Castiel’s flesh.

Humping back down against his brother in a slow rhythm that eases them both closer to the peak of pleasure, Castiel continues.  “It was so different from being in your mouth.  He didn’t take me as deep, and he didn’t use his teeth-”

“He will if you ask him,” Jimmy cuts in, his words breathy as he grinds up against Castiel’s movements.  “But he’s a gentleman about it and waits for an invitation.”

Ignoring the interruption, but filing that information away for later, Castiel continues.  “I don’t remember it all clearly because I was so shocked it happened.  I thought of you, though, and all the things you’d told me about him.  I got to see what you saw, and feel the things you felt.”  He leans down and takes his brother’s mouth in a deep kiss, sliding their tongues together.  Jimmy tastes like tomatoes and garlic, probably from sampling the sauce going cold on the stove.  He licks his lips, chasing the flavor with his tongue, when he lifts his head.  “I understand why you keep going back for more.”

“It isn’t just the sex,” Jimmy pants, his eyes hooded with lust.  

“I know.” Castiel meets Jimmy’s hips with his own, again.  Again.  

“Cas… Cas… did-” Jimmy gasps, his eyes slip shut, and his head tilts back on the couch cushions.  “Tell me what it was like when you came?”

Mouthing at the newly exposed skin of his brother’s neck, Castiel murmurs.  “He pulled off, and I- unh - came all over his face.”

Jimmy shudders beneath him, and Castiel feels the wet spread of his release soaking their clothes.  He loves the way Jimmy feels during his orgasm.  His muscles tighten, and his body arches in beautiful curves.  His mouth opens wide on choked gasps, and his heart gallops, pulling Castiel’s along for the ride.  The light of his soul flares, nearly blinding to Castiel’s inner Sight.  It’s awe inspiring, and beautiful, and Castiel loves his brother so much that in those moments, the power of that emotion overwhelms everything, including his own body’s response.  An orgasm rarely compares.  But today his body follows along with Jimmy’s, and he comes with a cry muffled against Jimmy’s throat.

Between the emotional upheaval and a second orgasm within a matter of hours of the first - an almost unheard of occurrence for him - Castiel is left drained.  He collapses on Jimmy, unable to find the strength to protect his brother from the full brunt of his weight.  But Jimmy’s arms come up and wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in so tight that he struggles to breathe.  At least until Jimmy hears him wheeze and loosens his grip.

When his breath evens out, Castiel whispers against Jimmy’s throat.  “I wish you could see his soul.”

“I can feel it sometimes,” Jimmy admits.  “It’s… awesome.”

“Yes.” Castiel closes his eyes and lets his mind conjure up the bright afterimage of Dean’s soul against his eyelids.  “Even under the power of the curse binding him.”

“He’s cursed?”

Castiel nods.  “I can’t tell exactly what it is, but it’s powerful.  It would destroy a lesser man.”

“Well that explains his career choice, I guess,” Jimmy says with a weak chuckle.  Then he sighs.  “I wonder what he would think if he knew about us.”

It would be nice to imagine that Dean could accept them for who they are.  Maybe he could return both of their love.  His soul is certainly big enough that Castiel thinks he’s capable of it.  But could he accept their love for each other as well?  Or would he be like most of society and shun them for being unnatural once he found out?

The silence stretches out between them for a long time.  Jimmy breaks it with the question that has been whirling around in Castiel’s own mind for many hours now.  

“What do we do now, Cas?”

Castiel sighs.  “I don’t know.”

Notes:

If you follow me on Tumblr, you might have seen me talk about how this was my DCJBB fic and I was unhappy with it so I decided to drop out of the challenge and give this more time than the big bang allowed for. Before I started posting this I had A LOT finished. Enough to basically make a whole fic. But chapter 6 would have been chapter 2 in the original version, so as you can see I've added quite a bit lol. Anyway, I've reached a point where I'm pulling most of the scenes from stuff I'd already written, and hopefully that means faster updates :D

Chapter Text

Despite the tape wrapping his knuckles, pain ripples from Dean's fist all the way up to his elbow, and the punching bag swings wildly away from his punch.  He knows that his body is trying to warn him that he's pushing it too far, but he ignores the ache of abused bones and muscles and swings at the bag again.  Gritting his teeth against the angry yell that wants to accompany each movement, he continues to beat the shit out of his workout equipment because it's the only release he has from the building pressure under the mark on his arm.  

The curse crawls and skitters under his skin, piercing him with poisoned claws.  His blood burns with it, and his head aches from the effort of ignoring the insidious voice whispering in his mind that splitting flesh and cracking bones and seeing the light drain from living eyes will ease his own suffering.

He grunts when his fist impacts the bag even harder.  The exertion of exercise usually helps, but since his complete and utter fuck up with the Novak twins the week before, the curse seems to have doubled its efforts to turn him to the dark side.  He's considered going out to try and find a hookup to see if he can fuck it out of his system, but he gets a sick, twisting feeling deep in his chest whenever he thinks about touching someone besides Jimmy.

Or Castiel.

That little voice, quieter that the Emperor Palpatine impression the curse is doing, confuses the fuck out of him.  He gets why he feels an attachment to Jimmy.  Aside from sex, they've hung out and gotten to know each other, and Dean likes him.  More than likes him, although he's not yet ready to admit to the other L word.  But Castiel?  He's hot, of course.  He's the mirror image of Jimmy, who is definitely Dean's type.  But even if he shares physical features with his brother, he's not Jimmy, and Dean's not the kind of asshole who can't keep them separated in his mind.

But there's something there..  He felt it.  Like an electric current arcing between them.  It's a pull, like Dean is at the edge of his gravity well, and he doesn't have the will to stay anchored where he is.  All it would take is a slight loosening of his willpower and he'll tumble over the event horizon, never to return.

Or maybe he is just an asshole that can't tell twins apart, and it's good that they're giving him the cold shoulder for what he did.

He pounds his fists against the bag in three quick swings - left, right, left.  Something cracks under the pressure on the last hit and he hisses at the sharp pain, cradling his hand against his chest.  He stumbles back a step and tilts his face up to the ceiling.  After several deep breaths he lets the shout of frustration free from where he's kept it trapped in his throat, and he swings at the bag again with his uninjured hand.

"Jesus, Dean, what the fuck are you doing?"

Dean spins around to face his brother, a snarl on his lips.  He catches himself before he lashes out, but his control is tenuous.  That in itself is as good as a splash of ice water to the face, and he snaps out of his haze.  He collapses back against the punching bag, but it's not stable enough to hold him upright and instead he falls on his ass.  He winces.  Despite the mat cushioning the floor his tailbone is going to remind him of that for a few days.

Sam is at his side in a flash.  “Dean, are you alright?”

His instinct is to hide behind a joke, but after his brief stint into demonhood, he’d promised Sam he would communicate more.  The last thing either of them wants is for him to fall down that rabbit hole again.  He coughs to cover his discomfort, but admits the truth.  “No.”

Holding up his taped fist, he winces at the swelling of his fingers.  The middle finger is already starting to turn purple.  Sam’s eyes drop to see the damage, and his grimace would be all Dean needs to know how badly he fucked up if he hadn’t already gotten a look at his mangled hand.  He sits still while Sam gingerly removes the tape from around his knuckles.  It hurts like a sonovabitch but Dean grits his teeth against it and lets Sam do his thing.

“Good job, dumbass,” Sam murmurs as he gently probes injury.  “You broke it.”

Dean wheezes a chuckle.  “Oops.”

Sam gives him a sharp look from under the fringe of his hair, but he doesn’t comment.  He gets an arm under Dean’s and leverages him up onto his feet.  “Come on, let’s get some ice on it.”

“It’s gonna heal in a day or two, Sammy,” Dean mumbles.  Man, now that he’s not working out, his whole body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse, and only his brother’s supporting arm is keeping him upright.  How long has he been down in the gym?  

“Sure it will,” Sam says as he leads Dean up the stairs.  “But it’ll be less painful if we can get the swelling to go down a little.”

Dean snorts.  Kid’s got a point, but that doesn’t mean Dean has to admit it.  Privilege of being an older sibling.  “Painkillers would work too.”

“Why not both?”

Okay, he’s not arguing with that logic.

They travel the long halls of the Men of Letters bunker their grandfather had passed on to them when he’d died, along with the fifty year grudge of a Knight of Hell.  Dean’s pretty sure that last part was an accident, so he’s not upset with his grandfather for leaving that information out of his last will and testament.  But if he’d known up front, maybe he could have managed to avoid this curse bullshit.

In the kitchen, Sam lowers Dean down on a stool at the table and goes to make an ice pack.  “So,” he says into the freezer as he pulls out a bag of frozen peas.  “Wanna talk about it?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Sam,” Dean mutters.  But then he sighs and concedes.  He did promise, after all.  “I think I fucked things up with Jimmy.”

Sam’s face scrunches up with sympathy as he brings Dean the bag of frozen peas and settles it gently over the back of his hand.  He straddles the stool facing Dean and takes his other hand and starts unwrapping the tape.  At least that hand’s fingers aren’t turning scary colors.  “That sucks, man.  What happened?”

“I accidentally went down on his brother in the library last week.”

Sam’s fingers pause, and he looks up at Dean, eyes wide and incredulous.  “You did what now?”

“In my defense, Castiel was really into it.” Dean wiggles his hand to get Sam to finish unwrapping it.

“That’s a pretty shitty defense.” Sam takes the hint and starts pulling at the tape again, easing the pressure around Dean’s knuckles.  “But I guess that means it’s not totally your fault.  If you got as far as-” he wrinkles his nose, because he’s a fucking prude, “-going down on him, he could have stopped you.”

Dean would wave his hand to emphasise his point, but they’re both held immobile at the minute.  “That’s right!” he exclaims.  “And if Jimmy is going to be pissed at me about this, he should be pissed at Cas too!  It’s not all on me!”

That makes Sam chuckle.  “I never thought I’d hear you say something like that.  You like to take responsibility for everything.”

“Fuck off,” Dean mutters, but there’s no heat behind it.

Sam ignores the jab.  His thumbs press at the flesh around Dean’s knuckles.  “Doesn’t look like you damaged this one beyond a little bruising, and it’s already starting to fade.  Do you still want some pain killers?”

“Yeah.”

Dean waits patiently while Sam gets a glass of water and a couple heavy duty painkillers and brings it to him.  When Sam hands him the pills, he pops them into the back of his mouth, then takes the glass of water, downing all of it in four swallows.  He holds the glass out in a silent request for more, and Sam fills it again and sits back down with Dean when he hands it to him.

“So, what are you going to do?” Sam asks.  Because of course he does.  Dean promised to be more open about what’s going on in his life and in his head, and Sam takes full advantage, the little shit.  

Dean sips at his water while he thinks.  What is he going to do?  He hasn’t heard from Jimmy at all in the last week.  Or Castiel.  Although he’s seen the shadow of a barn owl in the window of his classroom more than once in the last few days.  It’s too far away for him to see if it has unnatural blue eyes or not, but yesterday Dean had waved at it and it seemed startled to be acknowledged.  It nearly fell off the window ledge in its haste to fly off.  

He’d laughed, startling his students.  But it had been kinda cute, seeing such a graceful creature turn suddenly clumsy.  

Jimmy has been completely absent though, and the ache of disappointment Dean feels about that is almost as bad as the throbbing in his broken hand.  He hasn’t stopped by Dean’s class, or called, or texted.  All Dean has gotten from him is complete radio silence.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Sam says after a moment of waiting for Dean to say something.  

Dean grunts.  It’s not really approval, but it’s not like he can stop his brother from speaking his mind.

“Go talk to Jimmy instead of waiting for him to come to you.  And you should probably talk to Castiel while you’re at it.” Sam places a hand over the bag of frozen peas blanketing Dean’s broken hand.  “You aren’t like this when you spend time with Jimmy.  There’s something about him that stabilizes you.  I haven’t seen you so calm and balanced in years.  Maybe even before the curse.”

It’s true.  Jimmy makes him feel centered.  

“You want to be with him, don’t you?”

Dean’s mouth opens, and he closes it again, unsure if he should say what he’s thinking.

“What?” Sam prompts gently.

Dean stares down at the bag of peas.  Generic store brand.  The expiration date stamped on the bottom is a year old.  The thing has been thawed and frozen so many times while treating injuries that it would be dangerous to eat them even if they weren’t expired.  Maybe it’s time to invest in actual ice packs.

“Come on, man, talk to me.”

“I… like both of them,” Dean finally admits.  “And I’m confused as hell about it.”

Sam leans back on his stool and gives Dean a considering look.  But there’s no censure in his expression.  

Even though he doesn’t have to elaborate, the words spill forth.  “I mostly only hang out with Castiel at the library-”

“Where you accidentally tripped and fell mouth-first on his dick.”

“-but there is something there.” Dean glares at Sam for the snark, but ignores the statement.  “It's like… not love, but sparks fuckin’ fly man.”

Sam’s eyes unfocus, his gaze floating off somewhere over Dean’s shoulder as he thinks.  “You know… I’ve heard some rumors about the Novaks.”

Oh hell, not this again.  First Crowley, then Charlie, and now Sam.  Dean kicks at his brother’s foot near his own.  “Don’t be gross, man.”

“I’m not!” Sam denies, his eyes snapping back to Dean’s.  “I’m just saying, if they’re true, well…”

“Okay I get that they're really close."  Close enough that Dean has wondered.  He's caught them leaning into each other, and he's seen the soft touches they exchange, and the love shining from their eyes when they look at each other.  There was that time he went to meet Jimmy in his office and he'd witnessed them kiss each other on the mouth, but it was just a quick peck on the lips.  And yeah that was a little intimate, but not completely unusual.  Besides, everyone keeps forgetting one simple fact.  "But they’re brothers, Sam.  Twins.”  

“They’re also nephilim.”

Dean blinks.  “How do you know that?”

Sam waves a hand at their surroundings.  "They ping the wards.  Especially, Castiel.  I didn't think much of it when Jimmy started visiting, since he's a wizard, but the first time Castiel visited I was surprised the wards let him in, they vibrated so hard.  You didn't notice?"

Since Dean started pinging the wards himself, he's tuned them out.  Besides, he knew who was visiting so he hadn't thought about it.  He shrugs and runs a thumb over the mark on his arm to bring Sam's attention to it.  "I get a lot of false alarms."

The reminder makes Sam scowl, but he doesn't comment on the mark.  They've already argued the subject to death, and they're very clear on each other's feelings about it.  "Well after Castiel started visiting I asked Charlie about them since she was their student.  She had too much caffeine one night and decided to do a background check on the entire faculty of the University.”

"Dude, sometimes that girl is scary.”  Dean loves her like family, but man, she is intimidatingly brainy, and she doesn't always use that power for good.  “So what if they’re nephilim?  What does that have to do with anything?”

“Angels have no concept of incest,” Sam says.  “It’s normal for siblings to become intimate, or even to mate for life and produce offspring.  If there’s anything really odd about them, it’s the fact that they’re nephilim.  Angels think of mating with humans to be equal to bestiality.”

Dean snorts.  “So the fact that they’re abominations to angels means it’s okay for them to do something humans consider taboo?”  

But they’re not humans.  They’re not angels either.  They’re something unique.  And it would be unfair to apply human or angel rules to either of them.  

So maybe it’s okay that Dean likes both of them.  Or more than likes.  Whatever.  But he’s going to have to talk to them, and make sure they’re okay with him.  At the very least, he wants to make sure they both know that he’s not a complete dick.  He’d still like to be their friend if nothing else.

“That’s up to you,” Sam says, cutting into his thoughts.  “If you don’t think you can handle the fact that they’re twins who might be intimate with each other, then you can try and get over how you feel about them and move on.  If it doesn’t bother you, well…” he trails off with a shrug.

“Does it bother you?” Dean asks, mostly out of curiosity, and maybe a little out of hope for a second opinion to help influence his own.

“Not even a little.”

Okay, maybe he was mostly hoping for the second opinion because Sam’s acceptance of what might be happening between the Novak twins makes Dean feel much better.  He doesn’t care if the rumors are true or not.  It’s a little weird, but it’s not a deal breaker.  There was that fling he and Crowley had with those triplets.  He'd been a demon at the time so he didn't care how depraved they were being, but even now that he's got his moral compass back, knowing that Jimmy and Castiel are nephilim only makes him feel better about their alleged relationship because he doesn't want others to judge them harshly for it.

Of course, he doesn’t know if there’s any basis to them.  And if they’re not true, he still has to deal with the fact that he’s teetering on the edge of falling head over heels for both of them.  But there’s only one way he can figure this all out, and he’s going to need both Jimmy and Castiel’s help to do it.

“I guess I better talk to them,” he mutters.

Sam beams at him and smacks a palm against Dean’s shoulder.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

***

For the fifth time since Castiel returned home from the University library and Jimmy announced that Dean wanted to come over and talk to both of them, Castiel watches his brother pause in front of the large mirror hanging over the mantle to check his appearance.  He refrains from reminding Jimmy that his looks haven't changed drastically in the last twenty minutes.  It would only serve to make Jimmy more nervous if he can't work off his anxious energy.

Besides, he's nervous as well.  His body doesn't demand movement to work off the anxiety, but he at least has something to keep him busy while he waits.  Castiel is an archivist by profession, and spends most of his time working with ancient spell books and manuscripts, even the occasional clay tablet or copper scroll, but he loves books of all kinds.  The tattered paperback in his hands shows the wear of being much loved even with the preservation spells Castiel places on his personal collection.  The Supernatural series by Carver Edlund is his favorite, even though the author left it on a cliffhanger and seems to have no interest in writing more.

The one he's rereading now is a story about a spirit of a woman trapped in mirrors, killing people with dark secrets when they play a game by calling her name three times.  He's never killed anyone, but he does have a secret, and he wonders whether the spirit would consider his offense punishable.

The protagonists of the story are in a store full of antique mirrors, looking for the right one to destroy, when his concentration is broken by the rumble of an engine just outside.  He looks up to see Jimmy taking a deep, steadying breath, his eyes fixed on the door.

Castiel marks his place and sets the book aside.  He gets up from the couch that Jimmy insists is ugly but never suggests they replace it because of Castiel's fondness for it, and crosses to his brother.  He runs fingers through Jimmy's hair, deliberately knocking the strands loose from their severe styling.  "It'll be alright," he murmurs before kissing Jimmy lightly on the lips.

The contact relaxes Jimmy just as a knock sounds at the door.  He smiles at Castiel, his eyes warm with gratitude.  "I know.  I just want..."

Castiel doesn't need Jimmy's words to know what his twin is worried about.  They've both been trying to work out how they want to approach Dean with the proposition to become involved with both of them.  Or even if they should.  Dean is human and will probably be disgusted by their relationship, like most humans are.  Fear of his reaction has kept them both away from him, although Castiel has been unable to resist gazing upon Dean's beautiful light.

It had been worth the embarrassment of getting caught by the object of his spying.  Especially when Castiel had seen Dean's smile over his fumbling.  

Jimmy doesn't wait for a response he doesn't need.  He moves past Castiel and goes to answer the door while Castiel waits near the fireplace.  From where he's standing he has a clear view of the doorway, and he can't hold back a tiny smile when he sees Dean standing on the porch, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket.  He looks up from his feet when Jimmy opens the door, and even though he's tense, there's a definite look of relief in his eyes.

It's habit for Castiel to view most people with his Sight, and he's learned to narrow his inner eye to cut out some of Dean's brightness.  But Dean lights up both physically and spiritually when his eyes flick from Jimmy to Castiel.  Which is a surprise.  Castiel would expect Dean to be happy to see Jimmy since they've been unofficially dating.

The realization that Dean is happy to see him as well gives Castiel a warm, soft feeling in his chest.

Warm fuzzies, Jimmy whispers in his mind.  I've got them too.  

Castiel hadn't realized he'd linked them.  But it's as natural to him as reaching out to grab Jimmy's hand.  It's more difficult for him to break the mind link than to initiate it.  Most of the time he prefers to let it fade out due to physical distance than to deliberately cut it off.  It's his angel side, craving grace to grace contact.

“Hi guys,” Dean murmurs.

Jimmy steps back in silent invitation for Dean to enter.  “Hi.”

“Hello Dean,” Castiel says with a smile.

Dean brightens even further for a split second, then his face rearranges into serious lines.  “So, uh… obviously we all need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says.  “Why don’t you have a seat, Dean?  I’ll get us something to drink.  I don’t know about you, but I could use a beer.”

“Beer sounds great,” Dean sighs.  He takes off his jacket when Jimmy prompts him for it, and then walks over to the sitting area.  After a brief hesitation he sits down on the chair situated at the corner of the couch.  It doesn’t get used much since Castiel and Jimmy prefer to share the couch, and the springs squeak loudly when he settles his weight in it.

Castiel takes his normal spot on the end of the couch farthest from Dean, curling his legs up under himself.  Jimmy often teases him about nesting, and maybe he’s right.  But comfort is comfort, and Castiel sinks into it.  This close to Dean he’s forced to shut down his Sight completely or risk getting a headache from his brilliance.

The pink in Dean's cheeks heightens, but he doesn't act as flustered as he looks.  "Hey, Cas.  Can I say something while we’re alone?"

Smiling at the familiarity with which Dean uses his nickname, Castiel nods.  "Of course."  

Dean's eyes widen slightly, as if he was expecting a different answer.  He clears his throat, and his eyes dart around briefly before locking onto Castiel's.  He's definitely nervous, which is more endearing than it should be.  "I uh, wanted to apologize to you."

Jimmy had done as Dean requested and passed on his apology, but Castiel doesn't feel like it's necessary.  "Dean, you don't-"

“Hear me out," Dean cuts in.  "I don't think you're interchangeable."

Castiel blinks.  That wasn't exactly what he was expecting.  He grins wide, feeling even better when Dean's eyes catch on his face and he seems mesmerized by the sight.  “Thank you for your apology, Dean.  But I assure you, I never thought that.”

Dean huffs out a breath and watches his own thumbs as he picks at his cuticles.   His voice is soft, laced with true happiness.  “Good.”  But then his shoulders sag.  “I wouldn’t blame you both if you were pissed at me and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

The last is spoken just as Jimmy returns with beers.  He hands one to Dean, smiling warmly at him before turning to Castiel.  They exchange a look that doesn’t require words, out loud or through their mental link.  It’s a fond smile, radiating their happiness that Dean is in the room with them, and that they’re getting the chance to enjoy his company together.  

“We’re not mad,” Jimmy says, turning back to Dean.  Castiel also turns his attention back to the other man.  “We never were.”

Dean looks up at them through his lashes.  “Yeah?  So, what?  You’re cool with sharing?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers simply.

“We do it all the time,” Jimmy adds.

Dean’s head comes up and he gives each of them a long look.  “Really?  You share lovers?”

Castiel squirms in his seat, uncomfortable with the conversation they’re about to have, only stilling when Jimmy reaches out to touch him.  It grounds him, calms him.  It’s one of Jimmy’s innate talents, but with Castiel it is even more effective because of their connection to each other.  Jimmy always says that Castiel is the eye of his storm, but the truth is that he would probably be more prone to stress and being overly emotional about things if Jimmy’s touch didn’t siphon that extra energy away.  

“Not exactly,” Jimmy says with a quick glance at Castiel.  “Castiel, um… shares me with other lovers.”

They both turn their eyes on Dean, waiting for the inevitable explosion of disgust.  It’s happened enough times in the past that they’re rarely hurt by it anymore, but the buzz of anxiety coming from Jimmy through their mind link is magnified tenfold, matching Castiel’s.  Dean is different, for both of them.  And they’ve put off talking to him so long because this is the moment they’ve been dreading.  When he decides that they’re abominations, and tells them he doesn’t want anything to do with disgusting half-breeds who-

Dean’s eyes flit back and forth between them, his brow furrowed with confusion.  His gaze settles on Castiel.  “I don’t get it.  Jimmy sleeps around and comes home to you, and you’re not jealous?  I’d be jealous.” He waves a hand in Jimmy’s direction.  “I mean, look at him.  He’s hot shit.  Why wouldn’t you want that all to yourself?”

The constant stream of please don’t hate us please don’t please please please coming from Jimmy abruptly cuts off, and Castiel’s ears ring with the sudden silence.  They both stare at Dean, trying to process the fact that he’s still sitting in the chair and hasn’t called them any names or denounced them as monsters.

Dean’s laugh is rich and joyful.  He tosses his head back, baring his throat, and collapsing against the chair’s back.  Its springs squeal in protest at the movement.  

He already knows, Castiel thinks.

Well this should make things easier, Jimmy thinks back, his mind voice tinged with relieved humor.

When Dean’s laughter finally trails off, he wipes his eyes with a wrist and grins at the two of them.  “Oh man, your faces… So I guess the rumors are true?”

Castiel wrinkles his nose.  He can’t stand that his relationship with his twin is fodder for gossip.

“If you’re referring to the rumors that Cas and I are having sex with each other,” Jimmy says dryly.  “Then yes.”  He props his elbow on the arm of the couch, and then his chin on his fist.  “It doesn’t bother you?”

“I thought it was a little weird at first,” Dean admits.  He goes back to picking at the label of his beer, still otherwise untouched.  “But it’s an angel thing, isn’t it?  It’s not incest for you.”

It’s no secret that they’re nephilim, but Castiel didn’t think Dean would understand the significance.  “No,” he says.  “Incest is a human concept.”

Dean finally lifts his beer to his mouth, and he smacks his lips after taking a long swallow.  The tip of his tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of liquid and the buzz of sexual interest that Castiel has only ever experienced with Jimmy before starts up low in his belly.  He shifts in his seat again, this time to ease the building pressure between his legs.  He ignores the look Jimmy shoots his way.

“Makes sense.”  Dean taps his beer bottle against his bottom lip as he regards them.  There’s still nothing in his expression except curiosity and consideration.  Finally he sighs and sits forward, bracing his arms on his thighs.  “Okay well, I’ve got a deep dark secret of my own.”

Castiel and Jimmy exchange another look, then turn their full attention back to Dean.

He rubs his inner forearm, digging his fingers into the flesh like he wants to tear something out.  “You might have heard a few rumors about me,” he says, low, his voice rough with the effort of exposing his secret.  “About being a demon?”  He doesn’t wait for confirmation before pushing on.  “Well it was true.  My little brother found a cure, but I’m not completely out of the woods because I still have this.”

Before Castiel can marvel at Dean’s announcement that there’s a real cure for demon-hood, Dean sets his beer on the end table and lifts his sleeve to bare his arm from the elbow down.  He whispers an incantation to unravel a spell, and a mark rises up through Dean’s skin.  It’s angry and red, like a fresh brand.  It’s an ancient symbol that not many would recognize, but Castiel and Jimmy are academics.  Castiel’s work with ancient scriptures gives him the knowledge he needs to recognize it right away.  It takes Jimmy a heartbeat longer, but he hisses when he realizes what it is.

“Yeah,” Dean says, his eyes as flat as his voice.  “That’s the Mark of Cain.”

Castiel opens his Sight fully, experiencing a sharp pain until he becomes accustomed to Dean’s light.  He examines the ugly red lines lacing through and over his aura, and now that Dean has removed the spell hiding the mark he can see it in more detail than before.  It pulses on his arm like a living parasite, out of sync with his heartbeat.  It’s trying to crush Dean in its tentacles.

While Castiel is examining the curse on Dean’s arm, Jimmy reaches out to touch it.  He hesitates, but Dean nods his permission, and Jimmy’s fingertips brush over it.  In Castiel’s Sight, the Mark’s pulsing slows down and the ugly red lines seem to ease their grip.  Which is very interesting.  Jimmy’s calming influence seems to work on the Mark.

Dean’s lips part on a sigh, and he sags in Jimmy’s direction.  Castiel is sure he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.

“It burns,” Dean says.  “All the friggin’ time.  But if I blow off some steam, either through fighting, or uh,” he grins at Jimmy, his eyes glinting wickedly, “lots of acrobatic sex, it’s manageable.”

Jimmy smiles back, although there’s sympathy in his eyes.  “Glad I could help.”

“You do help.”  Dean pulls away from Jimmy’s touch.  He hovers his hand over the mark and speaks the incantation to reinstate the spell that keeps it hidden.  Then he looks up at them while he rolls his sleeve back down.  “I don’t normally like to hook up with people more than a couple times.  It’s dangerous, I’m dangerous.  And it’s not a good idea for me to get involved with people beyond a one night stand or two.”

“I see,” Jimmy murmurs.  He sits back on the couch, and scoots closer to Castiel, seeking out comfort.

Castiel can feel Jimmy’s heartache, and his own mourns in response.  He’s content with loving Dean without reciprocation, but Jimmy expresses his love more physically.  If Dean rejects him, Jimmy’s heart will break, and Castiel won’t be far behind.  Seeing his brother in that much pain will affect him deeply.

“But man, with you,” Dean breathes out, and he looks back and forth between them, “with both of you… it’s different.”

Hope sizzles across the twins’ bond, and Castiel isn’t sure which one of them it originates from.

Dean’s eyes land on Jimmy.  “I don’t know if it’s because you wear me the fuck out, like literally, or what.  But when I’ve been with you I feel calm.  Sometimes I’ll forget I even have this curse for a few hours.”  He turns to Castiel.  “And with you, it was only the one time, but fuck it was like-” he waves a hand around like he’s trying to pull the right description out of thin air, “-I dunno, it’s like the curse short circuited for a few seconds.  And all I could feel was you.

Castiel’s lips part on a soft gasp.  He remembers the moment Dean is speaking of.  When he’d reached out and touched Dean’s soul.  It had been momentous for him, but he hadn’t realized that Dean had been so thoroughly affected too.  But then again, he’d been a little out of his mind at the moment, so it would have been easy for him to miss.

“And the thing is,” Dean continues, “I’m tired of doing this by myself.  I don’t want to hold back anymore.  I want to get involved.”  Once again, his gaze flits back and forth between them.  “If you guys’ll have me.”

Castiel goes completely still, and feels Jimmy do the same next to him.  

His twin is the first to recover and respond.  He speaks carefully, obviously trying to feel out exactly what Dean is after.  “You want to have sex with both of us?”

“Yeah.”

“And if we’re interested in a lot more than sex?” Jimmy’s voice is still carefully neutral, which basically waves a red flag that he’s anything but.

Dean takes a deep breath, and his next words come out in a rushed exhale.  “I’m on board for that too.  With both of you.”

Since he’s always been the more physically expressive of the twins, Jimmy answers with actions instead of words.  He’s up from the couch, and straddling Dean ’s thighs, making green eyes go wide with surprise and the chair springs squeal loudly in protest.  His hands cup Dean’s face, tilting it up for a kiss.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Aaaaall the smut :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Castiel’s breath catches, and his heart begins to gallup in his chest.  Watching Jimmy kiss Dean is like having an out of body experience.  His fingertips come up to trace his own lips, and he can almost feel the soft pressure of another mouth against his.  When Jimmy slips his tongue in to flick against Dean’s, he moans, and Castiel nearly feels that as well.  

Dean’s hands tangle in Jimmy’s shirt, bunching up the fabric and baring skin.  He kisses back, rough, desperate.  As if quenching an unending thirst.  He whines a little, and his hips buck up.  But after a moment he turns his face away from Jimmy to break the kiss.  His eyes, dilated with lust, land on Castiel.  

“Cas?”

Jimmy turns his head too, and there’s excitement in his eyes.  Castiel knows that Jimmy has always wanted to share this kind of experience with him.  In the flesh instead of through words.  

“Keep going,” Castiel breathes.  “I want to see.”

“Bedroom,” Jimmy says.  He scrambles up from Dean’s lap, pulling him along.  “Come on, guys."

"W-what?  Now?" Dean stammers.

"No time like the present."  Jimmy sounds confident and cocky, but Castiel feels his urgency.  He's really missed Dean.

Dean laughs.  "Well okay then."

Castiel follows them to the bedroom, smiling when Dean looks back over his shoulder to make sure he’s coming too.  Dean looks dazed, like he’s not sure how he got into this situation.  Or maybe Castiel is projecting his feelings onto the other man.  God knows, everything feels a little surreal to him right now as well.

Their bedroom is large, the bed king-sized even though they curl together so tightly that they don’t need all the space.  Dean barely even glances around before Jimmy is divesting him of his clothing.  He glances at Castiel again even as he starts helping Jimmy out of his clothes as well.

“I know you’re planning on just watching, Cas,” Dean says when Jimmy drops to his knees so he can more easily pull Dean’s boxers down.  His voice hitches and his eyelids droop when Jimmy leans in and starts kissing along his shaft.  “But are you gonna- fuck, Jimmy,” his fingers go to Jimmy’s hair and his hips buck toward him.

“I hadn’t considered it,” Castiel says.  “Would you like me to?”  He tilts his head in confusion when Jimmy laughs, burying his face against Dean’s hip.  

I love you, Jimmy whispers in his mind.

I love you too.  What did I say that’s funny?

“I’d love to see that eventually, but that’s not what I meant,” Dean says with a smile.  He’s petting is fingers through Jimmy’s hair, and Castiel marvels at the tenderness in the touch.  “You gonna keep your clothes on?”

Castiel looks down at his body.  He’s still wearing the slacks, white shirt, and tie that he’d worn to work.  There’s a distinct tenting under the zipper of his pants, and he blinks at it in surprise.  He often forgets that his dick is involved in his arousal.  “No,” he answers simply before reaching up to loosen his tie.

“Awesome,” Dean says with a flirty quirk of his lips.  He looks down at Jimmy.  “You gonna suck my dick, or did you have something else in mind?”

Jimmy licks a long stripe from the base of Dean’s dick to the head, laving over the crown before licking his own lips.  He makes a low noise of pleasure.  “I’ve missed your taste.”  Then he leans in and takes Dean in his mouth, sinking as far as he can before pulling back and repeating the motion.  He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry, instead just savoring a special treat.

He watches Dean through his lashes, but then his eyes flick to Castiel’s.  Fuck, I love having him in my mouth.

“Jimmy…” Castiel says out loud.  His fingers fumble on the second to last button of his shirt and he stares at his brother in a daze.  

See how he stretches my jaw?  I told you he’s got a beautiful cock.

“Cas, you okay?” Dean asks even as he fucks Jimmy’s mouth.

It's sweet that Dean keeps checking in with him.  It's unnecessary, but maybe Dean is the one who truly needs reassurance.  Which Castiel is willing and able to give.  He nods and smiles at Dean, putting his heart into the expression.  "I'm wonderful, Dean.  And so are you."

Jimmy hums in agreement, and Dean's eyes slip half closed in pleasure.

Castiel lets his shirt slide off his shoulders then tosses it aside.  His eyes stayed glued to the couple in front of him while he finishes undressing.  It takes him a while.  Concentrating on what he’s doing is difficult.  Jimmy is gorgeous on his knees at Dean’s feet.  His hands run up and down Dean’s thighs, over his hips to his ass, squeezing the mounds.  Jimmy’s dick is hard between his thighs, straining up toward his belly and leaking at the tip.

And Dean.  Even without Sight, Castiel thinks he’s beautiful.  He’s tall and straight backed.  His shoulders are wide and strong, as is the rest of his body.  His skin is mostly smooth, only hairy around his groin and down his legs.  It’s marred by scars, more than Castiel likes to think about, but it’s also kissed by freckles that Castiel wants to trace lines between to create constellations.  Dean’s attention is mostly on Jimmy, but it keeps coming back to Castiel, as if he wants to make sure that he feels included.

That tiny gesture makes Castiel’s heart swell inside his chest with affection and joy.  He has Jimmy’s running commentary in his head, so Castiel is definitely included, even if he isn’t touching either of them at the moment.  Jimmy is describing Dean’s taste, his heat, the way the hair of Dean’s legs tickle against his palms.  But as much as Dean is visibly enjoying Jimmy’s efforts, he’s not so focused on it that he can’t spare thought for Castiel.  He told Castiel once that he doesn’t “do love”, but Castiel thinks that Dean is doing just fine in that regard, even if he doesn’t know it.

Dean makes a strangled noise and pulls at Jimmy’s hair, forcing him to stop.  “Wait… don’t wanna come yet,” he murmurs.  “Wanna fuck you.”

Through their mental link, Castiel feels Jimmy’s wordless !!! of excitement.  Jimmy wastes no time arguing.  He pulls himself up from the floor, using Dean’s hands for leverage, then he crawls onto the bed, wagging his hips in invitation.  And now it’s Castiel’s turn to chuckle at his brother’s antics.  

Dean follows him onto the bed, kneeling behind him.  But he looks over his shoulder at Castiel again.  With a tilt of his head, he invites Castiel closer.  

Accepting the invitation-

It’s your bed, Castiel.

Hush.

-Castiel joins them, sitting cross legged where he can get a good view of his brother’s beautiful ass.  He rests his hands on his thighs and waits eagerly for more.

“Are you gonna do anything about that?” Dean asks, gesturing to Castiel’s lap.

Looking down, Castiel is once again reminded of his erection.  It’s swollen and leaking, and he can nearly feel his heartbeat in the vein running along the underside now that he’s paying attention to it.  “Oh.”

Dean laughs.  “Didn’t you notice you’re hard?”

“I’m more interested in your pleasure right now,” Castiel admits.  “But I could touch it if you’d like.”

Dean’s eyes close and he groans.  “That would be pretty fuckin’ hot, but I’ve gotta pay attention to your brother.”

“I’ll watch,” Jimmy says over his shoulders.  “You know I love to see you jack off.”

“You guys are gonna kill me,” Dean mutters.  He turns his attention back to Jimmy and smacks a palm against his ass, just hard enough to startle him.  “You ready, Jimmy?”

Jimmy’s answer is an enthusiastic “Yes!”

Castiel strokes himself with loose fingers as he watches Dean spread his brother’s ass cheeks.  He speaks the Phoenician spell for lube and then he’s plunging two fingers into Jimmy, murmuring encouragement and filth in turn.  Until Jimmy is begging to be fucked.  When Dean finally acquiesces to the demand, Castiel forgets to stroke himself as he watches the head of Dean’s dick sink into his brother.  Dean is thicker than Castiel, but Jimmy opens up to him, moaning and rocking back to take him in faster.

And then Dean is thrusting into Jimmy, his hips slapping against Jimmy’s in a steady rhythm intended to please but not to take them to the edge too quickly. Castiel starts stroking himself again, concentrating on keeping the same pace.  

Jimmy makes the most beautiful noises each time Dean thrusts into him.  High breathy whines that choke off whenever his prostate is stimulated.  He rolls his hips back, his spine undulating, and he turns his head to look straight at Castiel.

“Cas…” he whimpers.  

Unable to deny his brother’s wordless request, Castiel scoots over to Jimmy and leans in to kiss him.  The angle is awkward so he lays down on his back and let’s Jimmy trap him between his arms.  It puts them face to face, and all Jimmy has to do is lean down enough for their mouths to meet.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.” Dean’s voice is strained, and his rhythm falters briefly.  “Cas, sweetheart?  Will you let Jimmy touch your cock?”

In answer, Castiel spreads his legs.  Jimmy braces his weight on an elbow, and uses his other hand to grip Castiel’s dick.  His brother’s hand on his heated flesh is more intense than touching himself, and Castiel whines into Jimmy’s mouth when a jolt of pleasure races up his spine.

For several long minutes the only sounds in the room are the slap of skin against skin, and Dean’s quiet praises.  Then Jimmy grunts and lifts his head.  Castiel opens his eyes to see that Dean has draped himself over Jimmy’s back and is staring down at Castiel over Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean says with a smile that is somehow sweet and wicked at the same time.  “How you doin’ down there?”

Castiel blinks and has to gather the floating strands of his thoughts to form a coherent answer.  “Good,” is all he manages.

Jimmy chuckles, bringing Castiel’s attention to him.  His eyes glow with love.  “‘Good’ looks beautiful on you, Cas.”

If his face wasn’t already flushed from arousal, Castiel thinks he might blush from the praise and the blatant appreciation in both of their stares.  He’s accustomed to it from Jimmy, but being the center of their attention at the same time is a little overwhelming.  

“Cas?” Jimmy leans down until his lips are against Castiel’s ear.  “Would you let Dean fuck you?”

Shock widens Castiel’s eyes.  He stares up at Dean and for the first time in his life, he imagines opening his body to someone other than Jimmy.  

“Please, Castiel?” Jimmy huffs out.  His body is still rocking against Castiel’s with Dean’s every thrust.  “I want to see you come apart on his cock.  I want to see you come for him.”

A whine bubbles up in Castiel’s throat and he nods.  

“Dean, stop,” Jimmy says as he pushes himself back up on both hands.  “We’re swapping places.  You’re going to fuck Castiel.”

Dean goes still, looking from Jimmy to Castiel. There’s yearning hunger in his eyes.  “You sure?”  The question is directed to Castiel.

“Yes.”

That one little word seems to light a fire inside both Dean and Jimmy.  They’re quick to disentangle themselves, which makes Jimmy laugh.  Castiel is too caught up in watching Dean move over him, kneeling between his legs and gripping him under the knees to press them up against his chest.  Dean’s eyes meet Castiel’s for a long moment before he looks down between Castiel’s legs.  His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Dean.” Castiel grips Dean’s wrists, the easiest part of him to reach in this position.  “I’m no different than Jimmy.  Anything you’ve done to him, I can take as well.”

“I half feel like I’m dreaming,” Dean murmurs.

“You and me both,” Jimmy says with a chuckle.  “God, you two look so fucking hot like that.”

Dean looks over at Jimmy with a mock glare, ruined by the twitch of his lips that threatens a smile.  “You’re a damn pervert.”

“Dude, I’ve had my dick in that ass you’re about to fuck,” Jimmy counters.  “Of course I am.”

Castiel smiles at their bantering.  He loves the way they light up under each other’s gaze.  The fact that they can tease each other during sex shows a closeness that Castiel feels privileged to witness.  

And then Dean turns that smile down to Castiel.  It softens and he lifts his eyebrows in question.  “How do you want it, Cas?”

He blinks at the unexpected question.  It’s one that requires some thought.  Most of the time he lets Jimmy take the lead, and he’s happy to do whatever his twin wants.  It’s not that he doesn’t have preferences of his own, far from it.  But Jimmy knows what he loves.  They’ve been lovers since they were awkward teens, horny and too shy to explore their sexuality with anyone besides each other.  

“Slow,” Castiel finally answers.  “And… I’d like for you to kiss me.”

Dean smiles.  “You got it, sweetheart.”

The endearment touches his heart as intimately as if Dean’s soul had brushed up against him, and Castiel falls even more in love.  When Dean’s slicked fingers breech him and start easing him open, Castiel stares up at him, and slowly opens his inner eye.  Dean’s aura still blazes brightly, but instead of a furious bonfire, it’s more like a crackling fire in the hearth.  Hot, but gentle and comforting.  

He gasps when Dean’s fingers brush against the sensitive nerves inside him, and his hips buck against his will.  Next to him Jimmy makes a soft noise of encouragement and reaches out to brush Castiel’s hair back from his dampening forehead.  

“That’s it, Cas.  Let him make you feel good.”

Castiel lets out a long breath and arches his hips up into Dean’s touch.  “Now, Dean,” he whispers.

Dean is much larger than Jimmy, and it aches slightly when he starts to press into Castiel’s body.  But the sensation blends together with the arousal and the awe he feels.  He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and squirming until Dean starts petting his thighs and trying to soothe him with soft words.  Even Jimmy seems worried when he bends down to put his face close to Castiel’s.

“Cas, are you alright?”

Castiel turns his head in Jimmy’s direction.  He can’t quite focus his physical eyes, and he only sees Jimmy through his Sight.  His brother’s aura flickers with a million unnamed colors, shot through with strands of gold, like he’d taken a little bit of Dean’s brightness into himself.  He reaches up with tingling fingers and touches Jimmy’s cheek, letting the contact ground him.  It’s easier to focus, but he’s still completely overwhelmed.  “I wish you could see him like I do,” he whispers.

Jimmy smiles.  “I've got a pretty good idea."  He leans in for a kiss but it's just a peck on the lips.  He laughs when Castiel whines for more, then looks up at Dean with a sly look.  "I thought you wanted Dean to kiss you?"

Oh yes, he definitely wants that.  He looks up at Dean whose eyes are dark with lust, but also sparkle with amusement.  And when Castiel lifts his arms, Dean leans forward into them, draping his body over Castiel's.

"Hey Cas," Dean whispers just before their lips touch.

And then he starts rocking his hips slow and steady.  Castiel whimpers into his kiss and tries to parse all the sensations flooding his body.  Dean's flavor and the texture of his lips.  The way he nudges Castiel's mouth wider with his own before licking inside.  The heat of his body radiating into Castiel's.  The way his heartbeat thuds against Castiel's chest.  The flex of his muscles under Castiel's fingers and between his raised thighs.  The way his cock stretches Castiel's rim on each inward thrust.

He's not so wrapped up in cataloging every new feeling that he misses Jimmy's presence at his side, telling him how gorgeous he is.  How glad he is that Castiel is enjoying himself so much.  He sends love through their mental bond, unable to form thoughts into words, and Jimmy’s happiness radiates back.

Dean's hips keep their steady rhythm, but his breathing becomes ragged.  His body starts to tremble against Castiel's, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his face into the curve of Castiel's neck.  He mouths at the skin there, biting gently, before lifting his head again to look down at Castiel with desperate eyes.

"Cas, I'm getting close.  I need to-" he squeezes his eyes shut and a shudder rolls through him.  His hips slam into Castiel, making them both gasp, and then he glares over his shoulder.  "That ain't fuckin' fair, Jimmy."

Realizing that Jimmy is no longer at his side, Castiel strains to the side so he can see past Dean's shoulders.  He sees Jimmy kneeling at Dean's hip, and by the direction of his gaze, the mischievous grin twitching at his lips, and the fact that Castiel can't quite see what he's doing with his hands, but it's making Dean buck and curse, it's obvious he's doing something to stimulate Dean.  

Dean's eyes roll back and he bites his bottom lip.  He starts wiggling his hips in response to whatever Jimmy is doing.  He shifts into a new angle inside Castiel, pressing hard against his prostate.  Arching up, Castiel gasps.  "Oh!"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!"  Dean's thighs bunch and he surges forward harder and faster.  

Castiel watches the play of emotions scrunching up his features in utter fascination.  Dean's breath catches, and then he goes still, buried so deeply inside Castiel's body, that Castiel can feel the jerk and twitch of his cock as he comes.  His aura flares its wings, and Castiel can't help but reach out to touch it.

Dean cries out when Castiel's fingers brush the astral feathers.  His eyes squeeze shut and his lips move in silent words.  Castiel can feel the pleasure boiling through Dean, overflowing and pouring straight into Castiel.

It's too much and not enough.  Castiel needs to move.  With a mighty flex of his back and thighs, he flips them.  Their bodies slip apart, but Castiel is quick to reach between them and guide Dean's still hard cock back to his slick opening and he sinks down on it.  He braces his palms on Dean's chest and rolls his hips.

"Oh my God, Cas,"  Dean whimpers even as he latches onto Castiel's hips and helps guide his movements.  His eyes crack open and he turns his head toward Jimmy.  "C'mere, Jim."

Jimmy obeys the mumbled order and slips the head of his dick between Dean's lips.  The angle isn't good enough for him to get very deep so he strokes himself while Dean mouths at the tip.  Castiel is so caught up in watching them that his own orgasm takes him by surprise.  A shudder wracks his body just as Jimmy moans and fills Dean's mouth.

When Jimmy pulls away, sitting on his heels and gaping for breath, Dean licks his lips, catching a dribble of pearly come from the side of his mouth.  And then he grins, first at Jimmy, then at Castiel.

"Smug fucker," Jimmy grumbles with good humor.  He wiggles around on the bed until he's lying down, head on Dean's shoulder, fingers playing with Castiel's come on his skin.

"Going by the looks on your faces, I think I have reason to be."  

"Indeed," Castiel agrees softly.  His limbs feel like jello and his brain is fuzzy.  It's very nice.

Dean's eyes twinkle up at him.  "You okay up there, buddy?"

The only reason he hasn't collapsed on top of Dean yet is because his elbows are locked.  He tries to arrange his features into a smile, but isn't sure he succeeds.  "I'm good, thank you."

Dean and Jimmy both break into laughter, and the flexing of Dean’s torso causes Castiel to lose his tenuous balance, so he falls forward against Dean's chest.  Strong arms wrap around him, holding him tight without restricting his labored breathing.  He tucks his head under Dean's chin and meets Jimmy's eyes from only inches away.  Fingers brush through his hair, and they must be Jimmy's because Dean's hands are petting Castiel's back.  He wiggles his hips enough that Dean's softening cock slips free, along with a warm rush of his semen.  Closing his eyes, Castiel sinks into himself and soaks up their affection.

"Damn, I forgot a condom," Dean murmurs.

"Don't worry about it," Jimmy responds just as quietly.  "We're immune to human diseases."

"You mean we coulda been swimming without a lifejacket this whole time?"

"You got the condoms out," Jimmy points out.  "I wasn't going to tell you no."

Dean's half hearted grumbling and Jimmy's soft laughter make Castiel smile as he slips closer and closer to sleep.

Notes:

One more chapter left :)

Chapter 10

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jimmy feels his twin fall asleep, tendrils of Castiel's essence retreating one at a time until he's alone in his own head.  It's a familiar sensation, but he always aches with emptiness for a few minutes afterwards.  He continues combing his fingers through Castiel's hair, the physical presence of his twin comforting him while he readapts to being alone inside his head.

With Dean's shoulder for a pillow the loneliness fades quicker than usual, and Jimmy nuzzles his cheek against him.  He's had more than a week to adjust to the realization that he loves Dean just as much as he loves Castiel, but a sense of awe still fills him at the thought.  

A soft snore makes him grin at his brother, and he sneaks a glance up at Dean.  "He's not too heavy is he?"

Dean cranes his neck into a weird angle so he can look down at Castiel.  It gives him a very unflattering double chin, but Jimmy doesn't think Dean could ever look anything but gorgeous.  Especially when his eyes soften with fondness while looking at Castiel.  "Nah, he's fine."

He presses a soft kiss against Castiel's crown, and Jimmy can't help the dopey grin that stretches his lips.

"What?" Dean mutters when he catches Jimmy's expression.

"I like the way you look at him."

Dean quirks an eyebrow.  "How do I look at him?"

"Like he's special."  Jimmy traces the shell of Castiel's ear with his thumb.  "Because he is."

Dean hums thoughtfully and turns his eyes back up to the ceiling.  His hands continue to pet over the feather shaped markings covering Castiel's shoulders and back.  Jimmy wonders what he'll think of them when he gets a good look at them.  If he'll feel the same sense of wonder that Jimmy did when they first appeared on Castiel's skin.

They're both quiet for a long moment, and Jimmy wishes he could share the same mental link with Dean that he does with Castiel.  Dean's silence stirs up secret insecurities, sending Jimmy's heart racing with nerves.  The unpleasant kind.  Unfortunately he doesn't have Castiel's delicate touch with that kind of magic.  And he's not sure Dean would accept that level of intimacy this early in their relationship.  If ever.

It makes him restless, and he rolls away from Dean's heat.  "I'll be right back."

He gets off the bed and strides quickly to the bathroom where he wets a washcloth and cleans himself.  When he looks at his reflection he chuckles at his wildly tousled hair because he looks like a mad scientist.  Some of the tension eases from his shoulders, and he does his best to brush away his worries.  Dean is a good man.  Jimmy loves him.  And if Dean doesn't return his and Castiel's love right now, at least he agreed to give them a shot.

Feeling much more optimistic, Jimmy runs the washcloth under hot water so it'll still be warm when he brings it out of the bathroom.  Dean watches him approach, his eyes wandering over Jimmy’s nudity with appreciation.

“I don’t want to wake him up,” Dean admits quietly when Jimmy reaches the edge of the bed.  But then his face scrunches up in a grimace.  “But we might get stuck together if we stay like this.”

Jimmy chuckles and perches on the side of the bed.  “You won’t wake him up. He usually sleeps like a corpse after having an orgasm.”

Even with that reassurance, Dean looks hesitant.  But the discomfort of drying bodily fluids overrides his reluctance and he very carefully rolls to the side, letting Castiel slip off him.  He sits up and accepts the warm washcloth from Jimmy and gently cleans Castiel before wiping himself down as well.  

Castiel’s soft snoring continues without pause, and Jimmy smirks at Dean’s raised eyebrows before accepting the dirty cloth back and flinging it over his shoulder.  It disappears before it hits the floor, a fancy cleaning spell he’d learned in his college years automatically teleporting it into the hamper in the laundry room.  

“Neat trick.  You’ll have to teach me that.”

“Gladly,” Jimmy agrees with a grin.  

Dean returns his smile before lowering his eyes to Castiel.  He leans back against the pillows, and starts stroking Castiel’s skin again.  His fingers trace one of the feathers on Castiel’s shoulder.  “These are some epic animagus marks.”

The comment draws Jimmy’s attention to the sepia-toned feathers.  “He’s been shifting since we were kids.  He’s a natural.”  He sighs wistfully.  “I never figured out how to do it myself.  He can do a lot of things I can’t do.  Sometimes I think that of the two of us he’s more angel and I’m more human.”

Dean looks up at Jimmy.  “Do you ever get jealous?”

Jimmy shakes his head.  “No, of course not.  I mean, sometimes I wish I could do those things too, but I also wish I had artistic capability.  And I don’t think artists are better than me.  Just talented in a different way than I am.”  He winks.  “I’ve got a more talented tongue than most people.”

That pulls a snort of amusement from Dean.  “Hell yeah, you do.”

They share a wicked smile, but then their attention turns back to Castiel and they’re quiet for a few minutes.  It’s a comfortable silence that Jimmy doesn’t feel the need to break.  And it’s nice to just sit with Dean and with Castiel and enjoy their presence at the same time.  

His eyes wander from Castiel’s animagus markings to Dean’s hand, and up to his arm.  The Mark of Cain looks like a fresh brand against his skin, with tendrils of infection spreading out from it.  He understands why Dean keeps it hidden with magic.  It’s difficult to look at because the unnatural shape of it hurts Jimmy’s eyes, and it appears to be incredibly painful.  

“How did you get it?” he asks.  When Dean’s eyes snap up to his, Jimmy immediately wishes he hadn’t asked the question.  It’s on the tip of his tongue to retract it, but Dean speaks first.

“It’s kind of a family legacy,” Dean murmurs, voice flat.  “My grandpa Henry pissed off a Knight of Hell by using her to test his theory on how to cure a demon.  She got loose, and the only way he could defend himself from her was to toss her in a hole through time, but he cobbled the spell together in a hurry, and didn’t know when he sent her to.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen.  “That’s… really fucking reckless.”

“No shit.” Dean’s lips turn up in a smile, but his eyes remain dark with unhappy memories.  “Anyway, she eventually popped out of a closet in the bunker about five years ago.  A Knight of Hell can only be killed by another Knight of Hell.  So I hunted Cain down and asked him to give me the mark.”

“And you became a demon?”

“Yeah.  And I took Abbadon out.  Sam figured out how to make the demon cure work, but not until-” Dean’s voice breaks and he swallows.  “Uh… anyway.  I’m not a demon anymore but I still have the curse.”

“Is there a way to break it?”

“The only way I found involved some seriously high level black magic.  Blood sacrifice and the whole nine.  It’s not the kind of magic I’m willing to fuck around with.”  Dean rubs at the mark like it pains him.  

Silence falls between them again.  Dean looks back down at Castiel.  His expression is haunted, and Jimmy searches for a way to lighten his mood again.  

“You know, Castiel’s never been with anyone besides me.”

Dean looks up in surprise.  “Really?”

Jimmy smiles warmly.  “He really likes you.”  It’s not quite in the ballpark of Castiel’s true feelings, but Jimmy doesn’t want to freak Dean out.  The more accurate L word can wait.

There’s a hint of self deprecation in Dean’s eyes, but his lips twitch up.

“So do I,” Jimmy adds.

“I think you’re both crazy,” Dean counters, but he’s definitely smiling now.

Jimmy chuckles and crawls toward the center of the bed.  He snakes an arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him down so that he’s on his back instead of sitting up, and cuddles close to his side again.  “Yeah,” he says through a yawn.  “You’re probably right.”

“I guess I’m staying the night?”

In answer, Jimmy waves a hand and the mage lights illuminating the room blink out.  A whispered cantrip pulls the blanket up over their bodies.  Dean chuckles in the darkness, and kisses Jimmy’s forehead before snuggling deeper into the mattress.

***

Dean doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep, but the soft sounds of the sleeping twins lulls him.  Thoughts of the mark on his arm float away, and he lets himself bask in the warmth of the gorgeous men he’s so damn lucky to be sharing a bed with.  Until eventually everything in his head goes quiet enough to let him sleep.

When Dean wakes the first thing he notices aside from the sunlight seeping through his eyelids is that the mark is blessedly silent.  The absence of its persistent buzz is almost shocking, and it's so fucking good to feel like a normal human being again that he barely notices that he's overly warm sandwiched between two large bodies.  

It's a minor discomfort.  His muscles feel like jello, and he can’t find the willpower to disentangle himself from the extra limbs wrapped around him.  He's not sure which ones belong to which twin, and in his hazy half-wakefulness, he doesn't bother trying to figure it out.  Opening his eyes would sort it out easily, but that feels like too much effort at the moment.

One of the arms draped over his chest moves, and fingers brush across his cheek.  "How are you, Dean?"

Ah, so the man plastered to his chest is Castiel.  His voice is noticeably deeper than Jimmy's.  "Just peachy, Cas."

Their voices aren’t their only differences.  He understands why Jimmy feels like he’s more human while Castiel is more angel.  Cas has always seemed more fae than his twin.  A little bit disconnected from reality sometimes, and scary powerful.  And he’s got this whole staring thing that makes Dean feel one part intimidated, one part horny, and one part peeled open like an interesting specimen under a microscope.  Horny usually wins out, which is why he’s glad that Jimmy and Cas are both into him, and willing to share.

"You're thinking very hard." Castiel's fingers move from Dean's cheek to his temple, playing with the short hairs before tracing a line across his forehead and down the tip of his nose.  

Also, Castiel has an uncanny ability to know what’s going on in Dean’s head.  "You read minds, Cas?"  

"No."  The fingertip drops from Dean's nose to his lips, pressing against the bottom one until Dean opens his mouth slightly.  "I might be able to speak with you mind to mind if you trust me enough to create a link, but I can only hear the thoughts you direct to me."

That's some very delicate spell casting and Dean is impressed despite himself.  Not many wizards can pull it off, and the ones who can often brag about it.  Castiel talks about it casually, as if it's no different from using text messaging.

"But you are less relaxed now that you're awake," Castiel continues.

Since Dean feels like a boiled noodle, Castiel's senses must be extremely fine tuned.  Or it's a nephilim thing.

"And your aura is flickering."

He says it as casually as when he announced he could do mind links, and there’s no judgement in the words.  But Dean's stomach twists, and he swallows against the sudden burn of acid in the back of his throat.  "Yeah I'll bet."

What kind of hideous abomination does Castiel see when he looks at Dean's aura?  Is it still demon black?  Is it pockmarked and damaged?  Does Castiel see a monster when he looks at Dean's true face?  Is that what's up with all the intense staring?

“You shouldn’t look without permission, Cas.”  He says it quietly, without the heat of their confrontation in the library.  He’s not angry anymore.  Only worried that Castiel will see Dean’s twisted, ugly soul and change his mind about his feelings for Dean.

“Jimmy has advised me of such.  But you try walking around with one eye shut and you'll understand my dilemma.”   

Despite being deeply asleep, Jimmy shifts at the mention of his name, nuzzling deeper against Dean’s back.  His hair tickles Dean’s shoulder.  “Okay yeah, that would suck,” Dean concedes with a wry smile.

“It’s just another sense that I live with,” Castiel continues in a lower tone so as not to disturb his twin’s sleep. “It's no different than seeing in color when everyone around me is color blind.  And some colors are so very lovely.  Sometimes it’s hard not to stare when there’s so much beauty to see.”  Fingers brush across Dean's cheek.

Dean also drops his voice to a whisper.  “I’m not beautiful.”

“Yes you are.” Castiel’s drags the pads of his finger along the stubble lining Dean’s jaw.  “When I look at you I see a man who has led a rough life.  You’re damaged and scarred.” He emphasises the point by tracing the thin scar on Dean’s chin.  “But you have laugh lines around your eyes, and freckles from being out in the sun.  When you smile, I want to smile back.  And despite carrying the weight of such a heavy curse, you move through the world with a lightness, your body buoyed up by the power of your soul.”

If he weren’t so completely chilled out right now, Dean would be squirming his way to freedom.  He’s never been good at taking a compliment, but fuck, hearing Castiel proselytize about his perceived virtues makes him want to find the nearest deep hole to jump into.

“Yeah, but if you can see my soul,” he argues, because why the fuck not?  He can’t escape, he might as well point out how wrong Castiel is.  “Then you can see that I’ve done unforgivable shit.  I may not be a demon anymore, but I’m still stained, Cas.”

“Open your eyes, Dean.”

A shiver goes down his spine at the familiar words.  The last time they were spoken in Crowley’s smarmy accent, and when Dean had obeyed the order, he’d opened his eyes to a darker world than he’d ever wanted to experience.  

He almost says no, fearing that this warm comfort between two beautiful men, who for some godforsaken reason seem to like him, is nothing but a dream.  That Sam never cured him, and this is some kind of nightmare that only demons experience.  His subconscious dangling a possible happy future in front of him, only to yank it away as soon as he wakes.

But the bodies sandwiching him are solid and hot and real, so he opens his eyes, trusting that his senses are not lying to him.  He startles when he realizes how close Castiel is.  He'd felt Castiel's breath on his skin, but his voice was so soft, Dean thought he had a few more inches of space.  Earnest blue eyes pierce him, and Dean wants to escape, but he's held captive, unable to break eye contact.  In the thin morning light, Castiel’s eyes look like deep mountain pools, full of shadows.  But not cold at all.  They brim with warmth and affection that Dean both fears and craves.

Castiel's thumb strokes back and forth under his bottom lip.  "I've rarely seen a soul so bright.  So righteous and good."  There's utter conviction in his words and his eyes.

Oh hell, if Castiel keeps this shit up, Dean might actually start to believe him.  He’s not quite ready for that, so Dean uses the time honored tradition of shutting him the fuck up by leaning in to kiss him.  

Castiel makes a tiny noise of surprise, but leans into it.  The kiss isn’t chaste.  Their lips part and tongues tease each other.  Castiel nips lightly at Dean’s lips, hard enough to jolt but not to hurt.  The hand that had been tracing Dean’s features starts to wander, first cupping the back of his head, then sliding down his neck, and over his shoulder, then down Dean’s arm to his wrist.  Dean half expects Castiel to take his hand, but he doesn’t, continuing his exploration of Dean’s body.  Walking fingers along his ribs as if counting them, dragging a fingertip over one of Dean’s nipples.  Tracing spiral’s on his hip.

The touches are all innocent, except for the nipple thing, but Dean is getting hard anyway.  And when he shifts to ease his dick into a more comfortable position, he realizes that Castiel is hard too, his warm length pressing against Dean’s upper thigh.  

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, as he slides a hand between them and runs a fingertip over the head of Castiel’s dick.  The way Castiel gasps makes him smile into the kiss.  “Do you,” kiss, “want,” kiss, “me to,” a longer kiss, with some wicked tongue action, goddamn, “take care of this?” he finally manages to ask.

“No, but thank you, Dean.  Touching you-” he flattens his palm and pets across Dean’s flank before grabbing a handful of his ass and massaging, which feels really damn nice, honestly, “-and watching you enjoy it is all I need right now.”

Dean is about to protest that Castiel is spouting crazy talk when Jimmy stretches behind him, groaning as his muscles wake up with the movements.  Apparently it was his knee between Dean’s thighs because it disappears when Jimmy moves.  And then there are warm lips against his nape, and a soft nip of teeth.

“If you’re ready for round two, I’m up for it,” Jimmy says against his ear.  He shifts again, and suddenly there’s another dick pressing against Dean, this time sliding into the cleft of his ass.

A few hours earlier Dean didn’t think he’d be able to go another round for a least a month, but now he’s definitely on board for another fuck.  The mark isn’t bothering him right now, Dean doesn’t need to do anything to sate the damn thing, but he doesn’t care because he’s going to ride Jimmy’s dick anyway.  Just for fun.  Just because he wants to.  He rolls his hips back against Jimmy’s.  “Hell yeah… and it’s your turn to top.”

“Hm, I suppose it is.”  Jimmy cups a hand under Dean’s knee and pulls it up, spreading his legs.  “Cas, will you open him up for me?”

Castiel’s smile is pure cat-that-got-the-cream.  “Of course.”

Dean groans when Castiel’s fingers circle his entrance.  When one slips inside he decides that this is either a demon-fever-dream, or he’s died and is getting it on with two actual, real life angels.  

Castiel’s fingers work him open, and then they disappear and Jimmy is sliding into him.  The whole time, Dean watches Castiel watching him and Jimmy together.  There’s something glowing in his eyes that Dean recognizes.  He’s seen it in Jimmy’s eyes a few times too.  He doesn’t want to think too hard about it.  Not yet, and maybe not for a very long time.

But maybe, just maybe, someday he’ll be able to believe it.  And to let himself feel the same in return.  

In the meantime, he lets go of all those negative thoughts and lets himself live in the moment.  To enjoy the little piece of Heaven he’s found with his own personal angels.

Notes:

Aaaand the end!

A few people asked if Dean would be cured of the MoC. He never finds a cure, but being with the twins helps him live peacefully with it. Cas eventually tells them that he can see Jimmy siphoning off the curse's energy. Which is why Dean feels so much more mellow since he started seeing Jimmy. In this world Dean became a demon almost as soon as he got the MoC. If he dies, the curse dies with him.

They do eventually exchange The Important L Word with each other. The twins move into the bunker, much to Sam and Kevin's chagrin since the trio have no shame about getting caught fooling around. When Crowley finds out Dean is dating both twins, he sincerely congratulates Dean and Dean threatens to knock Crowley's teeth out if he ever makes disparaging comments about the twins' unique relationship ever again. With Castiel and Jimmy's help, Dean writes four books on curses and how to break them or subvert them and they are considered the primary source for information on the subject of curses for generations of magic users to come.