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Not Strong Enough

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And it's killing me when you're away

And I wanna leave and I wanna stay

And I'm so confused, so hard to choose

Between the pleasure and the pain

 

And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right

Even if I try to win the fight

My heart would overrule my mind

And I'm not strong enough to stay away

 

Sublimation: in which socially unacceptable impulses are transformed into socially acceptable actions or behavior, possibly resulting in a long-term conversion of the initial impulse.

 

Sam sat alone at a table in the crowded bar & grill his eyes scanning the information on the screen and taking occasional notes on his pad of rules paper, looking like a Freshman cramming for midterms.  He clicked on a hyperlink and frown lines appeared as he pulled the pen from between his teeth and jotted down another note. He scrolled down the page and his eyebrows shot up.

They were hunting a Djinn afterall.

Sam sat back against the padded seat of the booth and ran his hand in his long hair, as his thoughts sought out past encounters with that particular monster.  His eyes caught movement off towards the bar. There was movement all around him, but this particular movement was dressed in a tan trenchcoat and he couldn’t stop himself from focusing on him.

Castiel was standing stiffly beside the bar where Dean was leaning casually back, his elbows resting on the dark wood, a drink held loosely in his hand while he looked around.  He and Castiel were clearly conversing, probably not about the case, and Sam wondered what his brother and the angel could possibly be talking about. Knowing Dean, he was probably reciting his “Led Zeppelin is the most amazing band in the world” soliloquy, which required very little input from fellow conversationalists.  He should know. He’d been on the listening end of that speech ever since Dean had turned thirteen and decided that classic rock was life.

Sam’s eyes strayed back to the tan covered shoulders with the mess of black hair sticking out from the collar.  Although he was turned away from him, Sam could perfectly picture the shape of his square jaw and cleft chin, the set of his lips and most of all the deep pure blue of the angel’s intense gaze.  Sam’s eyes flicked to the side and immediately looked away when he met Dean’s flashing green irises. He had been caught staring at his brother’s lover.

 

Sam was falling, his hands wrapped in his half-brother Adam’s jacket, his mind a steel cage around Lucifer’s screaming and pounding.  He was falling to save the world. All his life had led to this moment, he was the hero in this story, he had not fallen, he had been strong and his sacrifice would be remembered by those most important to him and the world would continue turning unaware that the Apocalypse had been on the cusp of destroying it, and at the last minute had been averted.

As he fell, he found his peace.  He didn’t know what would be waiting for him, locked away forever with Lucifer, Michael and Adam, but whatever it was, however bad it would be, that would be his penance.

That had been the plan.

Then, he felt a searing pain around his ankle as something clamped tightly around it and pulled back.  He screamed as he felt Lucifer being ripped from his mind, heart and body. The pain was a blinding white behind his eyelids, his body was searing from the heat of the flames licking at him inside and out.  Then darkness.

When the pain began to ebb away, he felt heavy, aware that he was no longer falling.  He could feel the dry stiffness of the grass under his palms. There was a muffled pounding in his ears, like his head was swaddled in blankets.  The pounding vibrations were insistant though and he tried to focus on the cadence, was someone talking to him? The voice suddenly became crystal clear at the same time that the light burst brightly from behind his eyelids.  Out there, as opposed to in here.

“Sammy!”  His brother’s voice flooded his awareness. The feel of his hands on his chest as he shook him both welcome and painful.

It took him all his remaining strength to push out the single syllable, “Dean,”  and he pried his eyes open to find his brother’s face inches from his, his eyes jumping around looking at him in a near panic.  It was so familiar - how many times had Dean looked at him just like this when he was a kid and had a fever, or had broken his arm jumping off the shed, or when Jake had stabbed him in the back.

His stomach did a startled backflip as Dean yanked him sitting from the ground and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly.  His thoughts slowly cleared and Sam began to wonder how this had happened, how was it possible for him to even be there? What happened to the plan?

Sam found that in that moment, he didn’t care.  He didn’t care how he had gotten there instead of locked away in the cage.  He was back, and his brother was holding him tightly: everything was OK.

Eventually, Dean pulled away, like he always did in the end, and as he stood back on his feet, he held out his hand to Sam who took it, letting him pull him up.  Dean’s hands steadied him as he swayed, hit with a dizzy spell that would have sent him crashing back to the ground without his brother’s body to stop him.

“Whoa, buddy!  Take it easy, Sam.  You OK?”

“Yeah,” Sam told him, the weightlessness leaving him quickly, the old burden quick to return as he looked around Stull Cemetery in confusion.  “I’m good. Get off me, Dean.”

Sam felt the pounding in his head return and he winced as he put his hand to his temple and closed his eyes.

“Cas!” he heard Dean say and he opened his eyes once more, this time focusing on the angel in the tan trenchcoat and the blue striped tie.  “Thank you, Cas,” his brother was saying, “I don’t know how you did it, you sonofoabitch, but you fucking did it.”

Sam’s wonder grew as he stared at Castiel, the being with infinite power wrapped in his accountant’s meat suit.  And suddenly, Dean stood between them and his body crashed into Castiel, his arms wrapped around him and held him tightly like he had held Sam just moments before.  Sam could practically feel his brother’s desperate intensity from where he stood. He did not expect what he did next though, and as Dean pulled back just enough to look at the angel’s face, his hand came up to cup his jaw and his mouth pressed against the sun dried lips.

A pang of yearning tore through Sam unexpectedly and a keening yelp escaped him before he could choke it all back safely.  Dean and Castiel were oblivious to his sudden distress though. Whatever Sam’s subconscious had been hoping for as he watched his brother kiss the angel who had saved his life and soul from eternity in a cage with the devil and his brother, it petered out like an empty deflated balloon as Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and returned the kiss with all the fervour usually confined to his blue eyes.

 

Sam shook the memory away, the pang of longing as strong nearly a year later as it had been at the time.  He had tried at first to explain it away by telling himself that it was all misplaced yearning caused by Castiel pulling him out from a fate (most likely) worse than death, but as the months passed and his ardent desire did not dwindle, he had resigned himself to doing what he always did when Dean brought lovers back to the motel, or flirted openly with anything on two legs: he was going to ignore it. He would just have to be strong.

Only, unlike Dean’s one(sometimes two)-night stands, Castiel was always around now.  His interference in the Apocalypse had earned him a lifetime ban from returning to Heaven and Dean had been very quick to invite him to join them on the road as they continued the obsession passed on to them by John Winchester: kill all the evil sons of bitches, and save the helpless human race.

A tan sleeve swayed into view from the corner of Sam’s eye and he jerked his head back quickly to look up at Castiel who was standing beside the table.

“I’m heading back to the motel.  Research,” Castiel told him, his tone flat.  His tone was always flat. Except when it wasn’t.  Sam shivered.

“Um, yeah.  Good.”

Castiel was staring at him with his large, unblinking eyes, and Sam found it difficult to swallow.  He tore away from the stare, his eyes landing on Dean automatically who was still standing at the bar, now leaning forward against it as he chatted up the pretty bartender.  As though sensing what Sam was looking at, Castiel turned back to look in Dean’s direction as well.

“Dean is staying a little longer.  He says he wants to hustle pool.”

Sam scoffed, “He’s hustling someone, for sure.”

Castiel turned to look at him again and tilted his head to the side the way he always did when he or Dean used some pop culture reference that went right over his head.  Sam looked away again, and Castiel walked out the door.

 

Sam leaned back his head and shoulders against the tall gravestone, blood-and-gore-spattered and panting.  He hated ghouls. They stank, they ozzed, they were damn hard to kill and they left a mess. Especially when Castiel’s idea of destroying their heads was to blow them up.  While Sam was down on the ground. Being chomped on by one.

“Agh!” Sam spit the bits of mushed flesh out of his mouth as he leaned up on his good elbow.  He could feel the warm blood slowly seeping out at his neck where the monster had latched on to suck him dry.  It had been a close one. If Castiel hadn’t stepped in when he had, Sam would’ve been dead.

The foul, bitter taste of rotten flesh made him gag and he desperately wanted to scour it from his mouth with a whole fifth of whiskey.  He was feeling lightheaded as he pressed his palm to his throat to stem the blood flow. He could feel the sting of his cuts as he shifted as well as the more insistent throb in his chest.  He shifted again to try and alleviate it but only got a sharp jabbing pain in return. Broken rib, great!

The noises in the graveyard had disappeared and Sam guessed that the fight was done.  Where was Dean? Usually he was the first to seek him out and make sure he was alright.  Castiel crouched down beside him and Sam’s frustration burst out bitterly.

“Thanks, Cas.  Great job,” he said, wincing at the sarcasm and hoping that the angel had failed to pick up on it.

“Let me look at it,” Castiel commanded, and Sam was instantly uncomfortable being this close to him.

Where the hell did Dean go to?  Sam pulled his hand away and after a quick, intense frown, Castiel lay his hand over the wound.  He barely felt the sting of the direct contact on the open wound as it was replaced almost instantly with an intense heat that poured into his body through his neck and quickly spread through to his fingers and toes and left his hair feeling like it was standing on end.  He also had a raging hard on.

The feeling had been so intense, and here he was, with Castiel’s hand lingering on his neck, his eyes boring into his own, and his body felt so good, all pain from the fight, including any soreness in his muscles that would’ve started setting in once the adrenaline had dissipated. Castiel's grace saturated his blood and brain with dopamine and his id overruled his ego and he pulled the angel forward, and pressed their mouths together.

Shame and desire and the sense of the forbidden rushed through him and he gripped Castiel tighter as he kissed him.  He tasted like a lightning strike on a hot summer day, the air barely cooled by rainfall. Sam parted his lips and snuck another taste of him with his tongue feeling his desperate need threatening to overwhelm him while he struggled hard to stay in control of his actions.  I'm stronger than this, he thought and he pushed Castiel away abruptly trying to not register the frown on his face, and even more desperately trying to not perceive it as the same harsh judgement he felt himself towards his actions.

“Cas, I’m sorry.  Just…”

“Sam?!” he heard Dean’s voice calling his name, an edge of panic making his name sound strained, choked in his brother’s throat.

“Don’t tell Dean,” Sam begged Castiel, who stood gracefully and reached down to help Sam to his feet, his frown still in place.

Later that night, Sam sat on the bench outside the motel room listening to Castiel and Dean’s moans as they celebrated the victorious hunt by making the bed slam against the wall.  When it got too much for him, Sam snuck into the Impala’s backseat to relieve himself, playing the soundtrack of the lovers to himself like a song stuck in his head as he came in his hand.

 

Sam tried to go back to searching for their rogue Djinn, but he couldn’t focus.  His eyes were starting to blur and he considered getting another cup of coffee the next time the waitress came to check on him.  He was searching for local “ruins” and potential lairs in and around town and the search through local news articles was slow going.  He could admit to himself that his current state of distraction wasn’t helping. His brother might tease him all the time about being a monk, but Sam felt desire and sexual frustration just as much as his brother did.  Probably more, considering Dean seemed to find outlets for his sexual needs much more easily than Sam.

Sam looked up towards the bar where his brother had been leaning before, but he wasn’t there anymore.  He scanned the dark crowded bar and quickly spotted him standing near one of the pool tables. His brother wasn’t currently knocking balls around the bands and into the holes though.  He wasn’t even negotiating terms for a soon to be won game, either. Dean was currently pushed up hard against the wall, just outside the circle of light from the lamp above the green pool mat, lip-locked with a man who looked to be about his height and build.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered as he looked away, feeling the anger bubbling inside of him.  Damn his brother for treating Castiel like he was no more than a convenient piece of ass.  Disgusting, cheating bastard. And fuck him for not even caring that he could see him. One more Winchester secret to keep.

Except this time was just once too many.  Dean’s blatant disregard for those around him who cared about him had gone too far.  Enough was enough.

Sam slammed his laptop shut and stuffed it into his bag.  He swung it onto his shoulder then pulled a few bills from his money clip and dropped them on the table to cover for his food and drinks and tip before getting the hell out of the overly stuffy roadhouse bar & grill.  The air was refreshing on his overheating face as he walked the quarter mile down the road to the motel they had checked into earlier that day when they had rolled into town.

Sam and Dean had always made due with sharing motel rooms, even sharing a king bed every now and then when the double rooms were all booked up.  It had never been much of an issue, especially since that’s how they had grown up. Somehow cheap ass, flea-bag motels, with miniature kitchens, and smaller bathrooms and two beds squeezed into barely enough space was part of Sam’s normal.  When Castiel and Dean started sleeping together, going at it like rabbits in heat, it had started getting very awkward and more than once Sam ended up banished from the room and forced to sleep in the Impala.

As he put his hand on the handle, Sam struggled with himself wondering where his loyalties should lie: with the brother he caught cheating left right and centre? Or with the angel who had become such a big part of his life in the last two years.  In the end Sam resigned himself to keeping his mouth shut. What good could it possibly do for him to tell Castiel about what Dean was up to? In what universe does the person being cheated on reward the denouncer by falling in love with him instead of the cheating boyfriend?

None.  If a movie tried to pull that kind of plot out of its ass, no one would believe it, and no one would watch it.  Except Dean. Because it sounds like a porn storyline if he’d ever heard one.

With a deep breath, Sam turned the handle and walked into the cramped motel room.  All his convictions about keeping his brother’s dirty little secrets evaporated like mist in the sun when his eyes landed on Castiel.  He was sitting at the small table looking intently at something on Dean’s computer. He had removed his trenchcoat and his suit jacket.  He never removed his coat and jacket. In fact, Sam had wondered more than once if he kept them on even while he and Dean fucked. And yet there he sat, in his white dress-shirt and blue trousers, his hair eternally tousled his blue eyes as intensely focused as always as he leaned his chin on his fists.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam felt a shiver run down his spine and into his balls as Castiel’s deep, gravelly voice spoke his name.  He looked away, putting his laptop bag down on the floor. He spotted his clothes duffle sitting at the foot of the farther bed and he tried to calculate how many steps he would need to take to grab it and disappear into the little bathroom at the back.  Step three would bring him close to Castiel, who was sitting in his white shirt, his biceps stretching the fabric taut because of the angle of his bent arms.

Five steps would be enough to get him to his bed and another 3 would have him safely putting a wooden barrier between him and Castiel.  Sam got as far as the 3rd step. And froze.

“Sam?”

He swallowed his discomfort, unable to take another step.  He heard the chair scrape back and the click of the closing laptop focusing on anything he could while the meaning of those sounds failed to register in his mind.  Castiel was standing in front of him. He could almost feel him he was so close. Sam looked away, trying to steady his breathing, knowing Castiel would be picking up on his distress if he didn’t slam a lid on it.

Then Castiel’s hand was on his hip.  The fuck?

His other hand was on Sam’s face.  What the hell?

Sam just caught the look in Castiel’s eyes as he pulled him down, before their mouths slammed together and the lids closed over the blue irises. It took a moment for Sam’s brain to catch up to what his body had already understood.  His hands gripped Castiel tightly, pulling him in closer as he parted his lips and his mouth was instantly invaded by Castiel’s tongue.

This couldn’t be happening.  He had fallen asleep. This had to be a dream.  He tightened his hold on Castiel’s firm body as he decided that he didn’t care if it was a dream, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

The door behind him clicked open.  Shit.

This couldn’t be happening!

Sam pulled away from Castiel and took a flailing step back as his leg hit the edge of the bed closest to the door and he sat down hard onto the mattress.  His brother’s chuckle as he closed the door and turned the lock confused him.

“I kinda figured you two had something going behind my back.”

“What? No!  Dean, no, I swear--”

Dean raised his hand and Sam shut his mouth, feeling his insides quaking.

“S’alright, Sammy.  I get it. You though,” Dean turned towards Castiel who was still standing in the spot where he had been kissing Sam.  “What game do you think you’re playing?”

“Dean, you and I do share a more profound bond.”

“You and your sweet talk,” Dean said taking a step towards the angel.

Sam couldn’t read the room, at all.  It was all tension and yet it didn’t feel like just before a fight.  Dean was glaring at Castiel, yet he wasn’t yelling. Then Castiel said something that really sent Sam’s mind into a confused spiral.

“What happened at the bar?  You couldn’t manage to bring him back?”

“Uh, yeah, that was a no go.”

“Which means we’re down our third for the evening.  This won’t do Dean.” Sam watched in fascinated confusion as Dean’s face settled into his disappointed pout.  “Don’t worry. I found a replacement.”

Castiel turned to look at Sam directly and shocked understanding passed through him.  This is a fucking joke. Some twisted, fucking prank his brother put Castiel up to to punish him.  Dean turned to look at Sam and immediately reacted.

“Dude, no!  We’re brothers!”

“Yes.  I enjoy looking at both of you.  Together you would be phenomenal.”

Sam’s head had turned into a boiling kettle, confused and outraged.  There was no way. Dean would tell him to go to Hell. Of course he would.  This was insane!

Dean glanced over at Sam who was sitting on the end of the bed, and his eyes raked down his body like he was taking inventory of him, seeing him as though for the first time.  Not seeing him like his kid brother, but as any other man. Sam was trapped by that look.

Castiel’s eyes were practically glowing with his intensity as he locked stares with Dean and simple said, “For me,” in a voice that sent shivers skittering down Sam’s spine again.  Dean groaned. The sound of it coming on the heels of Castiel’s commanding statement chased it down Sam’s spine and settled into his balls, tightening them unexpectedly. No, this wasn’t happening.  Sam groaned.

“Come here, Dean,” said the angel and Sam watched as Dean walked up to Castiel and pulled him into his arms, kissing him.  It was like watching a train wreck. Sam could not look away. He wanted to run, he wanted to fucking deck his brother, he wanted to die or kill ten creatures and bathe in their blood if it meant he wouldn’t have to be there, watching his brother kiss Castiel, his fingers pulling the angel’s tie loose and then free of the collar.

Dean pulled the buttons apart slowly, revealing Castiel’s bare skin underneath.  Sam’s breathing increased and a thin sheen broke out on his skin. Was it getting hot? Fuck.  Dean pulled the shirt aside and Sam got a clear shot of Castiel’s nicely defined collar bone and muscular shoulder before he bent his head down and kissed his neck, obscuring Sam’s view.

Sam shifted slightly, tilting his head just barely to get a better view before his reeling mind tried to remind him of everything that was wrong with this.  Not least of which the realization that he was analysing Dean’s body in the same way he had done him a moment before. Sam registered his broad shoulders, and nicely filled out ass atop his long legs and he had to close his eyes tightly and shake his head to get the idea out of his head.  This was wrong. This was insane. What the fuck was happening?

“Sam,” Castiel’s voice drew him back and he opened his eyes to see him holding out his hand, beckoning him closer.

Sam shook his head side-to-side emphatically.  There was no way.

“If you’re truly not interested, then I suggest you leave now.”

Sam watched as Castiel’s head turned to kiss the side of Dean’s head and then he caught the movement of his hand as it smoothed down his brother’s back and then moved to the front to cup his crotch.  He stood from the bed, torn between running for his life, right out the door, and staying, even if it was just to see what would happen next.

He hadn’t really expected to walk up behind Dean and lean down to capture Castiel’s mouth again possessively.  Sam was taller than either of them and it was nothing for him to bend above Dean’s bent frame. He allowed himself to get lost in the feel of Castiel’s lips on his, his hand holding his head tightly as Sam devoured him.  He certainly hadn’t expected to feel his brother’s ass press back against him and rub against his growing erection.

“Fuck,” Sam gasped out pulling his hips back while Castiel held his head in place.

“Go sit on the bed, Dean,”  Castiel spoke softly into Dean’s ear while his eyes stayed locked on Sam.  “Get yourself ready.”

Dean stepped out from between Sam and Castiel and moved towards the bed.  Sam’s eyes followed him and just saw him pulling his shirts up over his head and discarding them.

“What did you do to him?” Sam asked, turning back to look at Castiel.

“Dean finds it sexually pleasurable for me to give him orders.  He’s very obedient.”

Sam didn’t have time to let that sink in before Castiel pressed into him pulling him down for another kiss.  “Just like I enjoy the dynamics of multiple sexual partners.”

Holy shit! was all Sam could think as the feel of the words bypassed all his logic circuits and stoked his desire.  He took charge, his hold firm on Castiel’s face, and kissed him wholeheartedly. This time it was all passion and consummation as Sam took over, silently agreeing to anything that would come next while showing Castiel that he could give the orders, but Sam would be top dog in this twisted ménage.

Sam’s hands ran all over Castiel’s freshly bared torso, pushing the shirt off his shoulders to finish what Dean had started.  The angel’s skin was warm under Sam’s hands, surprising considering that Sam’s own body generally ran hot to the touch. He wrapped his arms around Castiel pulling him up against his chest as he kissed him over and over.  The feel of Castiel’s skin against his was more surprising than distracting though as he figured the angel had whisked his clothes off. Sam looked around to see his shirt, t-shirt and pants neatly folded on his bed. He chuckled as he looked down at the angel in his arms.

“That’s a clever trick.”

“I get impatient, Sam.”

“Do you really?  I would think that a being who’s been around for millenia would take things more slowly.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Castiel pulled him down for another kiss as he reached down and wrapped his hand around Sam’s hard cock.  Sam groaned and heard the sound echoed behind him from the bed.

“I think Dean might be feeling a little neglected,” Castiel said, moving away from Sam and heading over to the bed.  Sam hesitated to turn around, a last little part of him not ready to see his brother naked, and hard, and willing. He heard the bedsprings groan and he turned around at last and watched as Castiel crawled onto the bed, his naked body all taut muscles and hard lines as he held himself above Dean.  The look in Dean’s face was all awe and lust as he stared into Castiel’s eyes, his kiss-swollen lips parted and panting. Castiel told him to kiss and Dean’s lips pressed against anything, and everything that they could reach: his neck, his shoulder, his chest, and lower still as Castiel shifted and continued to move up his body.  Soon he had his knees on either side of Dean’s head, his hands holding the headboard as Dean kissed his cock and sucked at his balls.

Sam wrapped a hand around his own cock and massaged himself slowly as Castiel slipped his cock into Dean’s mouth and slowly pushed it in and pulled it out, Dean moaning around the fullness.  Sam watched as Castiel continued his slow, calculated thrusts, the muscles in his ass clenching each time, and Sam stroked himself as his eyes strayed down to the prone body under him, the cock all stiff and large and glorious.  He wondered idly how he would taste and how he would feel as his heels dug into the bedsheets and his hips gave little reflexive jerks as Castiel fucked his face.

Sam moved up to the bed and crawled up towards the headboard, intent to see Castiel’s face as he had his cock sucked, imagining the lust blown pupils in those intense blue eyes.  He kneeled at the head of the bed and turned Castiel’s face towards him so he could claim his mouth. The angel groaned his pleasure, a deep rumble in his throat, and Sam pulled him into his lap as he sat back against the headboard.  He stuck one of his fingers in Castiel’s mouth as he held him against him, his arm wrapped around his waist. Castiel’s head was pulled all the way back and Sam kissed his outstretched neck and sucked bruises onto the tan skin. Cas rolled his hips, sending pleasurable tendrils along his shaft and he sucked on Castiel’s earlobe.

Sam watched as Dean carefully shifted and settled between the two pairs of legs.  He wrapped his mouth around Castiel’s cock again, this time in a better position to control his motions, and Sam watched him as he worked his tongue and lips around the head and then sucked in his cheeks as he slid down the shaft.  Castiel stiffened, sending that pleasure through Sam again from the friction of their bodies and they both moaned. Fuck, Dean could give mean head if he had the angel writhing that badly.

He looked down again, disappointed that Dean’s focus was on Castiel’s stomach and not on his face.

“Look up, Dean,” ordered Cas as though he had read Sam’s thoughts.  As much as he had delighted in Castiel’s lustful look as he was sucked off, Sam had not expected the intense pleasure to rip through him at the sight of Dean’s oh-so-green eyes looking first at Castiel, but then shifting over to Sam as he pulled slowly on Castiel’s cock.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed out shakily as he rubbed himself against Castiel’s lower back, the ache in his cock growing unbearable.

“Dean, come up here," Castiel ordered.

Sam watched as his usually arrogant brother obediently moved away from his skillful ministrations and kissed a path up Castiel’s stomach and chest until he was kneeling up and looking at Castiel with eyes that showed only eager excitement.  Sam watched fascinated by Castiel’s control over his brother as he guided one of his legs to straddle one each of theirs. Castiel’s hand smoothed up Dean’s thigh and kneaded into his perfect ass as he pulled him down for a kiss that was almost all tongue and teeth.  Castiel turned his head away slightly and Dean kissed along his jaw and down his neck, Sam getting a whiff of his shampoo as his short hair brushed his face.

Dean made a small sound in his throat like nothing Sam had ever expected to hear from his big brother; he whimpered softly.  When Sam looked down to see what Castiel was doing, he saw him slowly trailing ever tighter circles around Dean’s anus.

“Dude, don’t you want lube, or something?”

Dean looked up and blinked, slightly confused by Sam’s concern, and then his mouth stretched into his big, familiar goofy grin as he turned to look at Castiel.

“Cas has magic fingers.”

He leaned down, clearly aiming a kiss at Castiel’s lips, but the angel turned away again, his focus entirely on teasing Dean’s ass.  “Not me, Dean.”

Sam just saw the hesitation in Dean’s suddenly stiff shoulders and stilled body.  But Castiel was quick to react, drawing his trailing fingers away from Dean’s ass and he immediately wriggled, trying to guide him back.

“You know what happens when you don’t do as you’re told, Dean.”

Dean looked up and his eyes met Sam’s over Castiel’s shoulder and the look in them was unlike anything Sam had ever seen, there was yearning, and lust, and near desperation in the irises, and lower still his lips looked so plump, and moist as Dean licked them with the tip of his tongue.  When Dean straightened up a little, bringing his face closer to Sam’s, he couldn't help the feeling of panic that overcame him completely.

"Dean, I'm not strong enough to… you're my brother, we can't. I'm gonna fall," he finished in a childish whine he had no control over.

"It's OK, Sammy." And it was his brother.  The one who always protected him, did everything for him.  The one who was there even when the world turned its back on them. "Close your eyes. I got you." 

Sam's heart raced a mile a minute and he closed his eyes.  He was met with eager lips as tentative touch quickly turned to ardent lust which he returned ten-fold.

Dean moaned into his mouth and stiffened his back and he knew that Castiel had started working him open with his fingers.  And Sam absolutely wanted to see. He wiggled under Cas to get his attention, and pushed gently on his shoulders. Dean pulled back, a slight frown on his features, and Sam found himself wanting to reassure him.

“I just want to watch, it’s good.  Better than good.”

He reached up and ran his thumb along Dean’s lower lip.  Then, Castiel shifted, guiding Dean to kneel on all fours near the side of the bed.  Sam adjusted his position against the headboard, his long legs splayed out under his brother’s body as he let his eyes take him in completely: hunting hardened muscles, that glorious cock hanging firm between his spread out thighs, Castiel’s cock stiff and ready, poised at Dean’s hole, a single pearl of clear pre-cum glistening on his red hot head.

Sam wrapped his right hand around his own cock and stroked himself slowly as his eyes bounced between the main points of interest in the show above his lap:  Castiel slowly pushing his cock into Dean’s ass, Dean’s straining, engorged cock, and finally his face, flushed with the pleasure-pain of being fucked, his lips parted so perfectly, his eyes squeezed shut as he panted and moaned.  Sam was getting himself all worked up, his hand pumping faster, feeling so good as he watched Castiel fucking his brother and grunting from the effort. Although that must be for his benefit, since he can’t imagine this was any kind of strain on the angel’s endurance or strength.  Sam was getting close as Dean’s moans turned to cries and he lowered himself so he could stimulate his swollen cock against Sam’s leg. Sam gasped at the unexpected contact with his skin.

“Dean, I think Sam would like a little help.”

Sam’s eyes flashed up to Castiel’s who stared at him with a quirk of his lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively.  He could admit to himself that he was curious to see how much sway Cas had on Dean. And he did seem to give amazing blow jobs.

Sam scooted down, adjusting himself so that his crotch was right below Dean’s face and this time there was no hesitation as he wrapped his lips around his tip and licked him, swirling his tongue around, pressing down along his slit and again around the sensitive skin just below his flared head.

“Fuck!” Sam said as he bucked into Dean’s mouth, his hand lost in his short hair and gripping him.  The feel of his mouth on his cock was beyond anything he’d felt before and soon he was holding his head in place as he fucked up into his mouth.  Castiel was pounding into his ass hard and the noises coming out of Dean were barely human as he moaned and choked on Sam’s cock.

The orgasm overtook Sam quickly and with hardly any notice and he saw Dean’s startled face as his come spilled out and into his mouth.  He locked stares with Sam though as he sucked him harder, drawing out the last of his seed as Sam heaved and jerked. Dean pulled off from him and Sam watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. And fuck if that wasn't the most beautiful sight. He couldn't look away as Dean pulled away from Castiel to climb up Sam’s body, nothing and no one between them this time as he kissed him deeply and rubbed himself against his crotch.

Sam was fully hard again within seconds and Dean rubbed his cock against his, sending little shocks of pleasure down to his toes.

“Tsk, you have to share, Dean.  Otherwise I won’t allow you to come.”

There was that little whimper again in Dean’s throat as he pulled away from Sam and turned to face Castiel.  He was on him right away, hooking his arms around his legs and pulling him up to where he was kneeling on the edge of the bed.  Castiel leaned down, bending Dean’s body into a pretzel as he kissed him.

Sam was hard again.  He was throbbing again.  He looked up at Castiel’s face as he straightened up again and the angel put his hand high on Sam’s thigh.  Suddenly, he was immersed in this multi-sensory, supervivd vision, like the world’s most intense wet dream. It only lasted a half a second, but it had him nearly blowing his load again. Then, it was gone and he looked into Castiel’s eyes and knew the angel had just shown him what he wanted Sam to do.  And he was eager to oblige.

He scooted out to the side of the bed where Castiel was all set to push himself into Dean again.  Sam stood beside the bed and laid his hands on Castiel’s hips as he shifted himself into place. He pressed himself against Castiel’s tight hole the same way the angel had communicated to him. He hesitated though, even as Castiel pushed back against him slightly.  Sam steadied his hips.

“Are you sure, Cas?  I’m pretty sure I don’t have a magic dick.”

“All of me is magic, Sam.  Now fuck me.”

With a grin, Sam slapped Castiel’s ass hard enough to leave a red handprint like the one that had been on Dean’s arm and the one he himself had had around his ankle ever since Castiel had pulled him back out of the cage.

“Now we’re even.  And Cas, don’t boss me around.”

Before the angel could protest, Sam pushed himself into him, driving his cock all the way home as his thighs pressed up against Castiel’s ass.  He never would’ve done it that way with a normal partner, but he trusted that Castiel’s comment about being all magical included not only magical lubrification, but also a superhumanly strong rectum.  Sam was rewarded with the first authentic sound of pleasure he'd heard out of Castiel’s mouth all night.

The angel liked it rough.  Well Sam was more than happy to oblige.  He pounded into Castiel hard and fast, angling his hips to thrust against Castiel’s prostate, drawing out increasingly guttural cries from him.  Dean moaned and Sam shifted his gaze to his, his eyes full of that desperate yearning again. Well he could take care of Dean too.

Castiel was holding himself up with both his arms, Dean’s legs still leaning against his shoulders, his ass just waiting for more of Castiel’s cock, Sam reached between their bodies and lined up Castiel with Dean.  Sam’s next thrust was slower, not wanting to cause Dean pain, and when his legs pressed against Castiel’s ass, he kept pushing until Castiel was fully embedded in Dean.

Sam was in control, and so he set the pace, and Castiel matched him.  Sam thrust into Castiel, and Cas thrust into Dean. They quickly turned into a writhing mess as they each sought to peak and unleash their orgasms.

Sam was already close, his previous orgasm making his system sensitive, and judging from Castiel’s grunts and sheen of sweat, he wasn’t far behind.  How odd to see Castiel sweating. Sam bent down and licked his back, tasting the expected saltiness, but also getting a note of that undefinable sensation in his mouth, like when Castiel had kissed him.

Dean let out a whimper and without thinking twice about it, Sam reached around Castiel and wrapped his hand around Dean's hardened cock.  He tried to time his jerks with Castiel’s thrusts, lingering around the head, stimulating the most sensitive area and pumping down the shaft quickly a few times before smoothing over the head again.  He heard Dean’s gasps and doubled his efforts as he felt the tell-tale tightening in his balls.

“Just a little longer, Sam.  Harder.”

Good God, Sam nearly blew his load right then, but he focused his control on holding back as he thrust into Castiel with the full strength of his pumping legs, bracing on knee on the mattress and pushing off from the floor.  Sam was reaching the end of his endurance, but he pushed on, determined to make the angel come. He gritted his teeth as his sweat-soaked hair plastered itself to his face and he tried to shake it free.

“Now, Dean,” Castiel said, and Sam tried not to get distracted by Dean’s cry as his whole body stiffened and his hot come spilled out and covered his hand.  He thrust into the angel and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore as he pushed hard, feeling his whole body shaking as his second orgasm crested and he unloaded.

Castiel’s orgasm left Sam in awe as a dark shadow seemed to burst out from Castiel’s shoulders and the soft feel of feathers brushed his whole body like he was suddenly inside a pillow filled with the softest down.  Sam collapsed onto the bed, panting, his mind a mess of colours and sensations as he tried to sift through all the noise and catch hold of a thought that made sense.

It was a hopeless endeavour as the exhaustion took over and he found that he could barely keep his eyes open.  Damnit, he thought as he tried to move his heavy limbs. He needed to wash up, or tomorrow was going to be a congealed mess.  He felt two strong arms shift him around on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, Sam.  I took care of it.”

Sam turned towards the warm body beside him and without opening his eyes, he kissed him tenderly then tucked his head into the shoulder, breathing in deeply the sweat enhanced notes of leather, soap and whiskey that were so comfortingly familiar.

 

Sam blinked his eyes at the sun soaked room, the overly bright light an assault on his sight.  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and managed to focus them on the empty bed that was meant to be his.  He frowned as he sat up, feeling the arm slide down his waist and into his bare lap.

Sam startled, but only a little, when he realised the arm was attached to his brother’s equally naked body.  The angel was nowhere to be found. Sam carefully slipped out of bed and looked through his clothes duffel for his jogging pants.  He grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it down over himself before walking out the motel door. He found Castiel, dressed once more in his blue suit and trenchcoat, sitting on the bench outside the room’s window and watching the sun rise above the low city buildings.  Castiel didn’t look at him, and Sam started feeling like the girl from the one-night-stand who couldn’t get the hint.

Nerver-the-less, Sam sat down beside him and turned his gaze eastward as well, focusing on the shades of pink caught in the wispy clouds, the sky around them only starting to turn from golden yellow to light blue.

“Cas.  I’m having a hard time understanding what happened last night.”

He turned his large blue eyes on Sam and frowned.  “We had sex. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“Yeah, Cas… That’s not what I meant.”  Sam huffed through his nose, rubbing at his temple as though that would set all the confusion right.

Castiel’s warm hand settled on his scruffy jaw and turned him so he would look at him.  As soon as he did, Castiel leaned up and kissed him, much more tenderly than he’d done the night before.  It was sweet, and left Sam feeling much better, like the burden on his heart had been lifted.

“Sam, forgive me.”

“For what?”

“I may have manipulated a few things last night in order for you and Dean to find yourselves.”

“What?”

“I know the secret you’ve been keeping all these years.  I’ve known from the moment you kissed me that first time.  You said, “Don’t tell, Dean,” you were afraid I would tell him about your jealousy.”

“I remember.  No need to hash that out now.  I’m pretty sure the cat’s out of the bag.”

“But, Sam, I don’t think you realized yourself back then, that the person you were jealous of, wasn’t Dean for being with me.  You were jealous of me for being with Dean. I had the one thing that you had told yourself your whole life belonged to you alone.”

“No, Cas, that’s not true.  Dean’s my brother, I don’t--”

“It’s time to stop lying to yourself, Sam.  I’m telling you that it’s alright."

Sam huffed out a breath again, finding it difficult to quell the shame of his uncontrollable desire.  They sat quietly for a few moments, letting the world wake up around them.

“How do you know all this, Cas?”

The angel smiled, the pearly white of his teeth just barely showing.  “Winchesters. When you make love, and when you kiss, you open yourselves up so completely, your thoughts and desires become so clear, it’s as easy as reading a billboard.”

“Wait-- does that mean… Dean, too?”

The angel turned back to face the sunrise, a calm, beatific look on his face as he tilted his head as though listening to music only he could hear.

 

You say my name

But it's not the same

You look in my eyes

I'm stripped of my pride

And my soul surrenders

And you bring my heart to its knees

 

And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right

Even if I try to win the fight

My heart would overrule my mind

And I'm not strong enough to stay away