Title : You pick the insects off plants (no time to think of consequences)
Author : brokentoy
Rating : NC-17
Pairing : Dean/Castiel/Sam
Words : 10588
Beta: A huge, huge thank you goes to triedunture. She is an awesome beta. She was patient and nudged me in the right direction when it was needed, so...thank you forever :)
Summary : The only place where Castiel feels safe is here, with the Winchesters.
Warnings : Threesome, underage (Dean is 18, Sam and Cas around 14 years old). Oral sex, oral fixation, breathplay, anal sex, codependency and mentions of physical abuse. Do not read if it's not your cup of tea, seriously.
Author's Note: Title is from Kids, by MGMT.
Castiel is here now. A bit earlier than he’s supposed to be but then again that is why Sam gave him the key to their apartment in the first place, right? So Castiel dropped in before the accorded time and now is here, in the living room rooted to his spot and not knowing what to do. There’s something amiss, something different from the usual calm as he looks around over the bare walls and thinks about his next actions carefully.
He has free reign here. It’s his home now as well as the Winchesters, or at least he's welcomed here like it would be. He knows all the nooks and cracks of the place, knows that the sofa creaks when you sit too heavily on it at that the TV will only give you Channel Six in black and white. There are pieces of Castiel’s life mixed with those of Sam and his brother, pictures hanging on the walls of their room portraying them smiling and carefree in the summer sun. Castiel has his favorite spot on the carpet to watch a movie, his mug from which he drinks his tea — even when the brothers continually tease him for not being fond of coffee — and knows that even if John Winchester spends weeks at a time away from home his boys always prefer to share their room instead of taking advantage of the master bedroom.
Castiel knows all this, and still doesn’t know what to do now that he finds himself here, a strange vibe in the air and the hairs on his neck raising to attention.
Sam is his best friend; they’re inseparable and they’ve been since they met at the beginning of Junior High. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for him, and if Castiel has to be honest the same applies to Sam’s brother, Dean. The Winchesters have been good to him, carving a space inside their family for Castiel to crawl in when all he ever wanted was to be accepted unconditionally. Sam brought him home that first night and Dean had cooked dinner for the both of them, chattering away full of confidence and charm as Castiel took in details of the apartment the two occupied. John came back from his travels from time to time to check on his boys, but never stayed more than a couple of days and he never had a problem with Castiel spending all his free time there with his sons. He didn’t care enough, Castiel supposes, itching with his desire to leave the house and get back on the open road as soon as possible.
Their relationship, based on instant friendship and trust, is how Castiel found himself in the habit of dropping by unannounced, slipping inside the apartment and waiting around for the brothers to come back home if they weren’t there already.
He and Sam were supposed to meet and study for their test tomorrow and even if Castiel is probably five minutes early that doesn’t really mean anything when it comes to them. It’s just the way it is, and Castiel has no qualms in letting himself in with practiced ease around the old lock and snoop around in the meantime to see if everything is all right.
He closes the door and steps further into the living room, silence all around him as he half-yells Sam’s name to make his presence known. When he receives no answer he steps towards the boys’ room to check if Sam just lost himself into his iPod or if he’s just too deep into the latest book he bought. Sam could read for hours on end; Castiel is much the same and he knows his friend is prone to completely forget the world around him in favor of a good story.
He follows the corridor, a silent thud on the carpet as he lets his backpack fall down to rest in the corner of the living room next to another one left abandoned there; he sees an old Batman keychain and recognizes it for the gift Dean gave Sam a couple of years ago when he almost completely grew out of his comic book phase. Sam had been mad with happiness, having inherited something his brother held so dear for so long. Castiel unconsciously pats the keys in his pocket, where a much similar object keeps them together. Dean gave him the Superman one, because you’re unbreakable Cas, never forget that, and Cas has been repeating it over and over in his mind when things got too bad ever since.
He smiles and as he walks deeper into the apartment he finds his body moves of its own accord when he realizes he can hear muffled sounds come floating through the thick door of the boys’ room. It’s not talking sounds or even hushing sounds, just a mix of whispers as indistinct as anything, prickling into his mind and drawing him in that direction. He finds himself at the entrance of the small room, wooden door ajar, open just a couple of inches for him to peek inside. It’s barely enough to get a proper look but what he sees stops Castiel’s breath in his throat and makes his mouth fall open, a furious blush creeping its way from his neck into the high points of his cheeks.
He puts his hand over the doorknob, fresh and almost cold to his suddenly overheated skin, and he forces down a gulp of air as he cranes his neck to have a better look at the scene before him.
It is Sam; little Sam so small against his brother as he straddles Dean on one of their beds. He can’t see much apart from Sam’s back but Dean is sitting up under him, his hands raking down, catching and gripping his t-shirt on the way to the waistband of his jeans. Castiel hears a soft moan coming from Sam’s lips and it’s enough to have him blushing ten times worse than ever, heart thudding in the cage inside his chest like he wants to escape and join the brothers in what appears to be a perfect cocoon of intimacy. They’re beautiful like this, lost in this second that is completely private and yet not —not anymore, at least— Dean’s hands guiding Sam’s hips in a slow, rotating motion as he slides back and forth on his brother’s lap, little puffs of encouragement dropping from Dean’s lips as they travel on the crown of Sam’s head, messy with hair made curly with the beginnings of sweat.
Castiel would like to know the taste of Sam’s skin and the admission doesn’t scare nor surprise him more than he thinks it should.
“ Yeah, Sammy, yeah,” Dean says, and his voice is rough and sweet, full of wonder as his own hips push up to increase the friction. “Like that, yeah. Go slower, baby, make it last.”
Castiel’s mouth waters at the sight, Dean beautiful and relaxed as he hugs his brother protectively to his chest, and there’s a kind of yearning bubbling from deep inside him that Castiel wonders why he never really thought about this before.
But he did; he really did, just not like this . He thought about it more than once, stroking himself hurriedly to completion to images of both of them; Sam and Dean beautiful and warm, but each in his own time and place, never together. In Castiel’s mind Dean would always kiss him tenderly, show him what to do and how to please him and pushing Cas down onto his knees before him as he smiled his way through orgasm. Sam, sweet, sweet Sam on the other hand, would be the one eagerly choking on Cas’ dick, jerking himself off as Cas’ cock breached his mouth over and over with sharp, passionate fucks of his hips.
Guilt and shame always found him after though, when the beatings of his heart would slow down and he would take a much needed breath out of his disgusting fantasies, and Castiel tried his best to never let it show on his face when he was around the brothers and these images crossed his mind.
So yeah, Castiel had thought about it on occasion, but this is something else. Something private and beautiful, and a precious moment for him alone to witness.
“ Dean—“ Sam whispers, and there’s a wet sound in the air that has to be Sam’s mouth sucking on his brother’s tongue, judging by the way Dean plants his feet harder into the mattress and pushes up, up into the cradle of Sam’s hips as they keep grinding against each other; a slow, lethargic rhythm that never breaks.
Dean doesn’t answer, going deeper into the kiss and leaning heavy into Sam with the force with which he fucks into his mouth, hands crawling up his back to give Sam’s hair a tight pull.
Castiel looks at them and finds himself wanting with a force he never knew before; wanting like someone who just knows he deserves to be part of something special, intimate and so much more like a family than he’s ever really known. Suddenly he wants to be a part of it, and it’s such a fierce feeling —righteous, even— that surges up from deep within him that he’s powerless to stop a startled moan at the realization and he clamps a hand over his mouth.
Dean’s eyes dart up and fix on his. Pleasure shivers down Cas’ spine and travels through his body, and his other hand slips down to grip his dick tight to prevent himself from shooting up his load as he gets lost in Dean’s unreadable stare. The green of his friend’s eyes is almost gone in favor of black, lust-blown pupils, and they travel across Castiel’s form in one lazy sweep as Cas tries to understand what it is he really sees. The arch of Dean’s eyebrow rises as he keeps studying him, cheek sliding along his brother’s, and his expression is relaxed and not belying the anger that should rightfully be there now that Castiel interrupted something so obviously private. He is shocked to see Dean smile; it’s a small little thing, dirtier than ever before and all cocky confidence as Dean resumes kissing his brother, messy and filthy and completely for Castiel’s benefit now.
His eyes keep smiling at Cas as he tugs once more Sam’s hair, pulling his head back a little ways as he moves to lick up a wet, shiny strip across his neck, hips never stilling as his brother slowly rides him, movements languid and unhurried like they have all the time in the world.
Sam is still unaware of being observed, lost inside emotions Castiel longs to feel too, and he watches as fingers creep up Sam’s back and disappear inside his t-shirt as Dean whispers in his ear, eyes still locked on Castiel.
“ Cas is here, Sammy.” He says it like it’s natural, like it’s nothing more than they expected and maybe they did, Castiel pinned under Dean’s stare exactly where they wanted him.
Cas waits for Sam’s reaction, frozen by the door and stroking his swelling cock absentmindedly as his breathing picks up in anticipation.
“ I—“ he says, but nothing more comes out as he tries to understand what’s happening.
Sam sighs, a contented sound surging from his body as he halts the movements of his hips and raises on his knees, distancing himself a couple of inches from Dean’s groin and turning his head to look in Cas’ direction.
The sex-crazed look is one that goes well with both Winchesters, Castiel thinks as he takes in Sam’s appearance; pupils blown, lips parted and of a deep, wet color, kissed swollen and shiny with his cheeks flaming red. His hair is wild, mussed by the repeated motions of Dean’s hand, which still cards its fingers in the soft curls even now as they look at him like he’s some kind of ethereal apparition they both were waiting for.
“ Hey Cas,” Sam says, his tone rough and slightly deeper than his normal, still not completely broken voice. He smiles happily at Castiel, a big dimpled grin that makes him look even younger, and nods in his direction as he says, “I knew you’d come.”
And it’s all there, really. There’s nothing more to it because wherever Sam and Dean go, Castiel is bound to follow, so as Dean flashes him a reassuring look he doesn’t hesitate and walks inside, pushing the door closed with his foot before abandoning his shoes and tentatively walking towards their bed, steps uncertain. He’s not sure about what’s going to happen, what it is they’re looking for, but the way they both stare at him calms him down; they would never let anything happen to him, of that Castiel is certain.
His eyes are trained on Dean as he circles Sam’s back and hugs him tighter to his body, protective and yet offering Cas his own hand, seemingly willing to share Sam as long as it’s only with Castiel.
“ Okay Cas?” Dean asks, and it’s in his big brother tone, the one reserved for when he slips into protector mode. Castiel feels Dean’s fingers entwining with his own, palm to palm; his hand is big, safe and warm as Dean himself has been for all the times Cas needed a place to stay and recover from the madness of his own home.
That’s what the Winchesters became for him; a family not by blood, brothers who would protect him and nurse him back to health from bruises and cuts; who would look out for him and make plans with him about the future. He smiles inwardly as he thinks about the times they thought about escaping, making a run out of this shit-hole of a city; far away from everything but still together to take care of each other. Many a night Castiel fell asleep thinking about them walking into the sunset, adventures unfolding as they drove away in Dean’s beautiful Impala as far as she would take them. Absent fathers and abusive parents would be left behind, barely remembered or just plain forgotten, and they would live their life safe and never fearing loneliness.
“ Yes,” he says, and he doesn’t need to add anything at that because Dean knows him, really knows him; even better than Sam does, even better than himself, Castiel fears. There’s something about him that always had Castiel hooked, from the moment he first met him three years before and all Dean did was kneel down before him and not ask any questions; as Sam ran looking for the emergency kit, Dean inspected the gash on his forehead and the bruise already forming around his eye. Cas remembers it all in perfect detail; how Dean cleaned him up, murmuring apologies when he thought he was applying too much pressure, and how careful his touch was. He remembers Dean’s anger, hissing through his teeth against anyone who would hurt someone as young as his brother and still get away with it. Castiel remembers him smiling, too, and making stupid jokes, trying to distract him from the burn of alcohol as he finally patched him up and patted his messy hair affectionately.
From then on Dean put himself in the place of a protector, seeing someone not too different from Sam in Castiel’s smaller body.
The feeling of powerlessness all of them shared made them even closer, the three of them aware there wasn’t much they could do to change things but stick together and help each other; spending time together became an imperative, and Castiel soon learned how to sneak out late at night to go sleep at the Winchesters’.
The first time it happened he let himself inside the apartment with the key Sam had given him; it was way after midnight, the silence in the room so much better than the screams bouncing off the walls back at his own place. He curled himself into a tight ball on the couch, jacket draped over his body, and went to sleep. He was woken up a couple of hours later by Dean gently shaking his shoulder. In true Winchester fashion he didn’t ask anything of Cas, just took him by the hand and led him into his room; Sam was awake too, eyes drooping and head a ruffled mess, and he scooted over to the side without a word to make some space for Cas under the covers in his bed. Castiel slept peacefully that night by Sam’s side, his presence warm with sleep and comfort, Dean’s breaths a heavy and soothing rhythm at the other side of the room as Castiel let himself fall into the unconsciousness of a dreamless slumber.
It turned into a habit from then on, Castiel slipping out of his own bed, closing the door quietly behind him and jogging the fifteen minutes necessary to get to the brothers and fall asleep with them, only to have Dean wake up and drive him back at the crack of dawn so that Lilith wouldn’t get suspicious.
But here, there’s no powerlessness in this, a choice he has to make and there’s little doubt clouding his mind as he looks again at Sam and Dean and sees only raw fondness waiting for him.
“ Yes,” he repeats, and Dean seems to let go a breath of relief as he pulls Castiel towards him and rises a bit more above the bed, Sam still gripping him around the shoulders and smiling tenderly at Castiel.
“ Good,” Dean says, “good, Cas. We were—“ He seems to hesitate and his eyes slip away to briefly look at Sam before continuing. “—We were wondering what you would think about this,” he finally says on an exhale. It’s weird to see Dean like this; Dean who usually drips confidence from his very skin and is never afraid, ever, about anything at all. Dean who yelled at John on Cas’ behalf when he told his sons there was nothing he could do about his friend’s situation; Dean who calmly told Cas’ mother he would kill her slowly if she laid again a hand on her son, and promised her he would take him away as soon as he would turn eighteen. That Dean is not here now, and in his stead there’s just a young man —still a boy, really, for all the weight his shoulders carry every day— looking afraid of Castiel’s rejection.
He feels a warm weight on his cheek and he turns to look at Sam, darling Sam full of love and good intentions, caressing his skin and ready to accept anything Castiel might tell them.
So Castiel just keeps his silence and nods his head; once, then twice to make his point clearer, and then he leans forward to brush his lips lightly with Dean’s. A butterfly of a touch, quick and delicate and meant to reassure him that everything is fine. Even before he can register Dean’s sigh of relief he’s already moved on to Sam, giving his little smile the same treatment he gave to Dean’s lips.
And then, suddenly, there’s nothing more but welcoming hands and open palms on his body as the brothers bring him towards them on the bed, and he feels himself heat up with anticipation as Sam scoots over, heaving himself from Dean’s lap and leaving space for him to join.
He doesn’t really know what to do with his limbs, but any nervousness he might feel gets thrown out the window as he feels Sam’s lips kissing lightly under his ear, arms embracing him from behind and pulling him flush to his chest. Sam hugs him tight and Castiel lets his eyes fall closed as he enjoys being cherished, Sam’s hands drawing soothing circles on his tummy as he whispers in his ear. “Don’t worry, Cas, just let Dean tell you what to do.” Another kiss on the shell of his ear and Castiel opens his eyes again to find Dean looking at him, gaze hot and full of want directed at the both of them, entwined and barely kissing just in front of him.
“ Yeah, Cas,” Dean says, and it comes out strangled, like there’s something stuck deep inside his throat that won’t let him speak easily, “just come here.” And with that he finds himself crawling onto Dean’s lap, Sam’s eager hands pushing him lightly from behind and dragging down his back, caressing and never leaving him. He finds himself face to face with Dean, high on his knees and desperate to touch; he doesn’t quite dare to, though, because for all he’s thought about it he’s still as inexperienced as they come.
It must show on his face, because Dean takes him around the waist and pulls Cas towards him, crushing him to his chest and pressing them together. A spark of pleasure shoots up Castiel’s body as he feels Dean’s cock pushing up behind his balls through the fabric of his pants, nestling into his body as Castiel sits on him. He feels Sam’s hands dipping under his t-shirt, his nails scraping lightly on his belly and he rolls his hips, a moan tumbling down his lips at the delicious friction of his body alongside Dean’s.
“ Oh,” he says, and it comes out surprised; a shocked little sound that Dean licks out of his lips, tongue sweeping swiftly around the contours of his mouth as he feels Sam coming closer from behind and a smooth, wet pressure landing on his neck. He parts his lips and pants inside the wetness that is Dean, losing himself in waves of pleasure falling down on him from all sides, and he loves, loves the feel of Dean’s cock as it slots in place with his and he can feel the hard, hot line of it against his jean covered flesh.
“ Cas.” Dean breathes into his mouth, takes Cas’ bottom lip between his lips and tugs a moan out of him as he continues in a gasp. “You have no idea, how much—how long we waited for this.” Dean’s tongue slides down his neck, biting at the tendons and bits of flesh on its way to Cas’ clavicle, where it latches to the jutting bone and sucks, a filthy sound mixing with a groan as Cas’ head falls back on Sam’s shoulder. He can feel Sam too, pressing into his lower back and following his brother’s rhythm as he feels the touch of hot, warm liquid soaking through a little patch of cotton on his t-shirt, sticking it to his skin. Sam must have taken himself out of his pants, unashamedly humping Cas’ back as he’s busy riding Dean. Castiel abandons himself in between the two of them as they keep getting closer and closer, embracing in a tighter circle where Sam’s hands fold around him and find the buttons of Cas’ jeans, straining under the pressure of his hard-on and easily opening under Sam’s ministrations.
“ Yeah,” Sam says, and Cas moans into his neck as he feels his deft fingers creeping down inside his boxers, caressing the head of his cock as it pulses a fat drop of precome on the tip of his fingers. “Yeah, Cas,” and with that his fingers disappear, leaving Castiel bereft of them until Sam pushes them inside him mouth, the tang and taste of himself unfamiliar on his tongue as he licks Sam clean.
“ Fuck,” Dean moans, and his hips push up a bit more firmly, dick catching up behind Cas’ balls and then up and up again, a long slide along Cas’ hardness. “Sammy, kiss him,” he says, and then Sam is there, pressed tight to his back, cock slipping under Cas’ t-shirt and sliding up his naked skin, burning hot and leaving a silken trail behind as Sam licks inside his mouth, sucking on his tongue in time with each thrust. His hand creeps back inside Cas’ pants and Castiel is helpless now, nothing he can do but fuck Sam’s hand as it makes a cage around him and starts pumping.
“ You’re so hot baby,” Dean murmurs, biting down on the tender flesh of his neck. He sucks at it as his hand comes up to guide the movement of Cas’ hips, to place him where he wants him as he keeps moving up towards him. “Shit, Cas. Look at you, trying to get yourself off on my cock.”
Dean’s words make him shiver, the low rumble of his voice reverberating through his chest as he presses there, moving and losing all coherence of thought as Dean leans even closer, impossibly so as he licks the shell of his ear, kisses him softly in the tender spot below it. “I wanna fuck you, Cas,“ he murmurs. “Will you let me?”
Cas lets loose what could only be a whimper at that, trembling in excitement with a “Yesss” dropping down his parted lips into Sam’s mouth. “Yes, Dean,” he repeats, and he can already feel inside him the phantom shape and weight of Dean filling him up, bringing him home into their little family, forever theirs. “Dean,” he says again, and he starts to unconsciously fuck Sam’s hand a little faster, a little harder, his tongue licking the roof of Sam mouth and wanting more.
“ Shhh…hey,” Dean frames Cas’ head in between his broad palms and Castiel has no choice but tear himself away from Sam and look at him, flushed and beautiful with bright green eyes and just so perfect Castiel could weep. Sam kisses him tenderly on the cheek as his hand grips the base of Castiel’s cock tight, preventing him from blowing his load already. The three of them form an awkward kind of hug that grounds him as he tries to calm himself, come down from this explosion of excitement at the idea of letting both Winchesters lay a claim on him. Sam stills against him too, whispering nonsense in his ear as he pats his hair and resumes stroking him gently, none of the rushed rhythm of before but instead a languid motion, a slide of slicked fingers on the over sensitive flesh of his cock. “Shhh, baby. There’s no need to rush it. I’ll fuck you, I promise, but I want to see you with Sammy first.” Dean looks deep into his eyes, trying to gauge the reaction at his words as he continues. “What do you say? Do you want to suck Sammy off?”
Sam groans in his ear and his hand tightens around Castiel; he whimpers as he furiously nods his assent, head still framed by Dean’s hands.
Dean smiles a pleased little smile and says “Have you ever done that before, Cas?” And when Castiel sheepishly shakes his head he locks gaze with his little brother, grin widening and winking at Sam as he continues, “I’ll tell you what to do, okay? I’ll tell you what Sammy likes.” He kisses Castiel on the tip of his nose and lets his hands fall back down, taking him around the waist and nudging him aside.
Castiel raises his leg and lets himself fall on the bed, unbalancing Sam and taking him down as well. He finds himself on his back, the gentle weight of Sam along his body as they look at each other. Sam, as always, smiles; little dimples on the sides of his face and bangs covering his eyes and Castiel thinks he’s never seen something prettier than the flush covering Sam’s cheeks. He raises his hands and takes a handful of hair as he gently tugs Sammy towards him, catching his lips swiftly and sucking on his bottom lip. Sam moans eagerly and then Castiel feels him licking into his mouth, limbs moving all around him as he feels the pressure of Sam’s rocking hips on his own erection. He grips Sam’s hair ever harder, letting his other hand slip under his shirt as he rakes his nails down Sam’s side until he feels him shiver against him; then, with a swift move of his hips he pushes down with his feet and turns them over.
Castiel opens his eyes as he hears Dean’s gentle laughter and he finds himself the focus of Sam’s huge stare.
“ Dude,” Sam says, breathless and amused, “you’re stronger than you look.”
Castiel smiles at that and kisses him again, nipping at Sam’s lips and licking at them gently. He feels Sam squirm under him, hears Dean’s breath leaving him in puffs as Castiel kisses his way down Sam’s neck, tearing the top of his shirt aside as he sucks on a jutting collarbone. His hands roam on his friend’s body, hot and firm, barely touched by adolescence but already shaped by the training John subjects his sons to. As the tips of his fingers find Sam’s cock, full and resting on his belly, Sam’s stomach quivers and he gasps in surprise; Castiel looks up and he finds Sam staring, lips parted and wetness shining inside.
“ Take your shirt off, Sammy,” Dean says, and then proceeds to help him. He positions himself behind Sam’s head, curving his body over Sam’s smaller form until he can grip the hem of the shirt and pull it off. Sam tries to push himself up, groaning as Castiel takes his jeans at the same time and with a swift move they come off. As Dean is busy patting Sam’s hair, ruffled by the movement of his shirt, and as Cas sees him lean down and kiss his brother gently on his lips, Castiel takes care of Sam’s boxers and socks, his eyes never leaving them.
He groans as he palms himself, hard and aching and still halfway into his jeans, and Dean moans at the noise he makes, eyes popping open to watch Castiel as he continues licking into his brother’s mouth with little, obscene sounds.
Sam’s lips are red and flushed when Dean releases them, a shine of saliva over them making Castiel’s mouth water; “Cas,” Dean murmurs, but he’s not looking at Castiel at all. His eyes are instead glued on Sam’s erection, bobbing slightly as a thick string of precome keeps it connected to his flat stomach.
“ Yeah,” Cas says. Only that, and he folds himself in between Sam’s legs, tongue coming out to lick that same sliver of moisture off Sam’s skin. It’s not that different from the taste of himself, but still not the same. “Yeah, Dean,” and with that he takes the head of Sam’s cock in his mouth. He almost chokes on it, too, as Sam’s hips buckle up and push his dick into Cas’ throat, but Dean moves to lie next to his brother and with a hand stills his movements, caressing his hair with the other. He keeps kissing Sam as he moans into his mouth, Castiel tentatively suckling on the plump, purple crown of him, a heavy weight on his tongue. He catches another bead of precome as he swipes the flat of his tongue on the slit, and he hears Dean shushing his brother’s groans with a deeper kiss; the echoes of Sam’s sounds of pleasure falling into Dean’s body make Castiel shiver, and he flattens himself in between Sam’s thighs, fucking into the mattress to get some relief.
He gets down to business and tries to take more of Sam into his mouth; he’s not huge, not yet. He’s beautifully shaped and cleanly cut, satiny and warm, and Cas relaxes around him as he descends to half of his length.
“ Yeah,” he hears Dean say. “Yeah, baby, open your mouth.” As he does exactly as he’s told, Castiel glances up and sees that Dean is not actually talking to him, instead looking Sam straight in the eyes as he pushes the amulet he always wears around his neck between Sam’s parted lips. The sight is strangely erotic in its simplicity, Dean caressing the side of Sam’s face as he watches his mouth cradle the little object, pink, pink tongue darting out to play with it. He closes his eyes, tries hard not to get carried away as he keeps moving up and down Sam’s cock, a strangled sound coming out as it pushes on the back of his throat. A gentle weight settles on the back of his head as Sam coaxes him further down, Dean’s voice mumbling something against his brother’s neck. Castiel tries to concentrate on something other than the smell and texture of Sam, and hears Dean say “Suck harder Cas; use—“ His voice breaks into a moan at the sound of Castiel’s slurping sounds. “—yeah, use your hand too.”
Castiel grips the base of Sam’s cock gently, precome trickling down to coat his fingers as he starts pumping; he feels Sam’s hips struggle against the containing force of Dean’s arm, and his hand starts pushing Cas a bit more. A popping sound and Castiel lets him go, looking up to see the brothers still looking at each other. Dean is caressing Sam’s hair as Sam continues to suckle on the amulet, cheeks flushed and the leather string straining wet and taut around his brother’s neck.
“ Sam,” Cas says, and his voice is raw and raspy, fucked out and grating against his throat. “Sam, do you want to come?”
“ Yeah,” but it’s Dean who answers. “Yeah, Cas, he wants to, don’t you, Sammy? Go on, Cas, make Sammy come,” and it feels like a sweet concession more than an order. Cas smiles and descends again on Sam as Dean keeps murmuring profanities, hips humping his brother’s side in time with Cas’ bobbing head; Castiel hears his whispered suggestions — “Suck harder on the tip; yeah, Cas, just like that. Stroke him a bit faster, fuck, let me see you lick him up, fuck, Cas”— and follows them one by one until Sam is a mess in Dean’s arms, straining against his hand to let his hips go and fuck Cas’ mouth properly.
“ Dean—“ Sam moans —half whines, really — low and indecent around the amulet weighting on his tongue, “Dean, I’m gonna—“
“ Yeah, baby, yeah,” Dean says, and then, “Cas, is it okay if—“ and he doesn’t even finish his sentence as Cas starts sucking even harder, his hand descending and massaging Sam’s balls the same way Castiel likes to touch himself, rolling them around in his palm.
That does it for Sam and he starts to shiver as his hips stutter wildly, choking Castiel and causing his eyes to tear up; moisture gathers and falls on the sides of his face as he strains for breath. He loves it, every second of it, and he knows that for all that Sam can’t control his movements, Dean’s arm is still there to ground him, keeping him from accidentally hurting Cas. The sudden lack of oxygen makes it all a hundred times more intense for Cas and he unconsciously reaches down with his free hand. He grabs himself and fucks into his fist as he keeps gagging around Sam’s cock, Sam’s hand still holding him firmly in his place. The feeling overwhelms him and he can’t stop himself from coming, spilling wet into the bedsheets and thrusting into the pool of his own come. He moans deep into his throat, a sound he distantly hears echoed by Dean, and lifts himself briefly from Sam’s dick to take a breath of much needed air before descending on it again to finish the job.
A couple more thrusts are enough and a grunt leaves Sam as he throbs inside Castiel’s mouth and comes as well. It’s abrupt and abundant, and it almost makes Cas choke all over again. He swallows obediently, trying to maintain his breath, but Sam keeps moving in and out of the ring of his lips and come slips out, leaking down his cock and onto Cas’ fingers as Sam moans his way through it, panting as Dean latches on his neck and sucks a bruise in its side.
“ Fuck—” Dean says almost at the same time as Sam speaks, and there’s a sort of awe in their voices that Castiel has never heard. “Fuck, Cas—that…that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, man.”
“ Yeah—“ Sam agrees as he tries to regain his breath, lungs filling up rapidly as he comes down from his high. “Yeah, Cas.”
Castiel smiles and raises slightly on his knees. “I’m glad,” he says in between little pants of air, and that’s enough for them. He’s not one to talk much and the brothers know it; they like him as he is, and he rarely has to speak to make himself understood by them. He lifts his hand and brings it to his lips to lick off the remaining drops of Sam’s come.
“ Stop,” Dean says, and it comes out more of a command than everything else he's said tonight. Cas looks at him and Dean stretches his arm, grabbing Cas’ wrist and pulling him towards them, “Gimme.”
Castiel follows and rests his weight on the elbow of the other arm as he lays down by Sam’s side. The three of them are splayed on the bed, Dean and Cas still dressed as Sam lies naked and spent between them, Dean’s amulet now abandoned and shining with Sam’s spit. Dean takes Cas’ hand to his mouth and starts licking his brother’s come from it, humming contentedly as he does so. Sam, suddenly inspired by his brother’s actions, tugs Castiel’s other hand and starts doing the same, cleaning away all trace of Castiel’s orgasm with little lapping motions, kitten-like.
Castiel is mesmerized by the soothing feeling of their tongues on his fingers, little flashes of pink and red, teeth peeking out of their lips and teasing him tenderly. It is too much visual stimulation for him and he feels his spent dick valiantly twitch, trying to recover as fast as possible. Based on the amount of attention he’s receiving he doesn’t think it’ll take more than ten minutes, god bless him and his raging hormones.
Sam moans contentedly as he finishes cleaning Cas up and Dean makes an approving sound as he sucks the last fingertip out of his mouth, letting go of Cas’ wrist. There’s nothing to it, Castiel can’t help himself from stretching his arm a bit further and catching Dean's short hair, tugging gently but firmly enough that Dean gets the message, eyes widening and grin spreading on his face as he lifts himself on his side and hovers over Sam’s relaxed body to follow Cas’ pull.
Castiel surges and meets Dean halfway in a scorching kiss, taking what’s left of Sam’s taste from Dean’s mouth and sucking on his tongue as he keeps gripping Dean’s hair tightly. His eyes are closed as he feels Dean climb over his brother’s body and lower his larger form onto Castiel; he doesn’t crush him, letting all of his weight fall into his forearms as he kisses him fiercely, hands roaming under Cas’ clothes and raking his nails alongside his flesh.
Castiel moans and suddenly all he wants is Dean inside him, fucking him like he promised. He opens his eyes slightly and his vision is all Dean, flushed and beautiful above him, freckled face covered in a deep blush and eyes shut as he moves over him, knees spreading Castiel’s legs apart urgently.
“ Dean—” Cas says breathlessly against his parted lips. His hands travel down between them to Dean’s jeans, feeling the zipper strain against Dean’s hard-on. It opens easily under Cas’ fingers and he cups his hand for Dean to fuck into through his boxers.
“ God Cas—” Dean moans relieved at the sudden reprieve from the pressure of his clothing. “—Cas, fu—uh.” Dean is a blubbering mess in Cas’ hands as he starts stroking him slowly over the fabric, and Castiel feels Sam coming closer, sees his hand creep up to cradle his brother’s nape as he keeps moving above Castiel.
“ Cas—“ Sam says, mellow and relaxed and completely at ease being the only one naked, “—clothes off now.” Or maybe not.
“ Yeah—“ Dean agrees weakly in between wet sweeps of his tongue into Cas’ mouth, and with what looks like an enormous effort he kisses Cas one last time, sweetly nipping on his bottom lip and lifts himself up on his knees to stretch back and shed his shirt. “Cas, naked. Now.”
“ Yes.” And Cas agrees, even if he doesn’t move at all, eyes raking up the expense of Dean’s body; lean and athletic, body shaped in all the right places, Dean is a vision of power. His muscles ripple as he takes off his clothes, and Castiel hungrily follows their shape until he finds a better path to follow. His eyes trail down the little strip of fine hairs connecting Dean’s navel to the bulge in his underwear, peeking taut and strained from his open jeans. He can see the head of Dean’s cock peek through the soaking wet fabric, fat and heavy and ready for him, and he feels his mouth water.
“ Cas,” Sam says, and it comes out on the crest of a little laugh as Castiel blushes furiously under his amused stare. Dean smiles, too, and beckons Sam to him for a quick kiss before they both disappear from view as Castiel hurriedly busies himself with his shirt and pants. When he looks up again, the brothers are still kissing, slow and lovingly as Dean traces the line of Sam’s spine with his fingertips, making him shiver and get even closer to him. They’re murmuring to each other — sweet nonsense by the sounds of it — and they make such a tender picture Castiel feels lucky to be there to witness it.
He still can’t believe he’s part of this; that the brothers would let him in into the deepest corners of their relationship, and he loves them so much in this moment he’s almost afraid of being overwhelmed by the force of his emotions. He looks away, giving them some privacy even if they obviously feel like they don’t need any, and takes off his boxer shorts and socks, throwing them somewhere in the corners of his room. He’s saved from suddenly feeling like he’s intruding by the wet sound of lips separating and Sam scrambling off the bed and to the bedside table to rummage through it until he comes back victoriously holding what appears to be a pair of folded socks. Cas has no time to ask about that; Sam unfolds it and a little bottle falls out of it on the bed.
“ Oh…” he says, lips parted in stupid surprise and Sam grins like a loon and jumps back on the bed.
“ Yeah,” Dean says, and when Castiel glances at him Dean is absent-mindedly stroking himself as he looks Cas’ way, a pensive frown marking his features. Castiel glances down and watches the head of Dean’s cock disappear into his tight fist as he jerks himself off, cock swollen and dripping precome over his fingers every time they sweep it off the tip. Dean, unlike his brother, is uncut, and Castiel is hypnotized by the motions of the foreskin as it covers the fat head almost completely, pink engulfing that vivid purple color as Dean keeps pumping his hips into his palm unhurriedly.
Castiel has never seen an uncircumcised dick before, he himself being cleanly cut, and he’s fascinated by it to the extent that he has to restrain himself from dropping to his knees for Dean and sucking him off, playing with that little strip of skin until he can make Dean come only with the movements of his mouth around it. He wants to know how it would feel to dip the tip of his tongue under it, if it would make Dean shiver with want or ask him to stop. He wonders what Sam thinks about it, if he finds it as fascinating as Castiel does. And then Dean slides closer and straddles him, keeping himself upright on his knees; Castiel is suddenly faced with Dean’s cock, gorgeous and inviting, mere inches from his mouth.
He tips his head up and Dean is still looking at him with a little frown. “Cas—” he begins, and it’s reassuring and gentle, almost nervous. “We don’t— we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” That , Castiel guesses, is fuck. Dean is offering a way out, maybe playing Castiel’s sudden fascination with his cock so that Cas feels free to back out of the actual deal. Maybe Dean thinks Castiel would prefer to suck him off and have it over with, and Cas would almost laugh at the idea. He wants Dean. He wants him like he’s never wanted anything, except maybe Sam. There’s not a doubt in his mind about it and even if he appreciates Dean’s efforts he knows that Dean wants him too. So this? This is pretty sweet of him but also a total waste of time, because Cas is hard and aching and still loosely relaxed from his orgasm and all he wants at the moment is being filled up by Dean as Sam watches and kisses him through it.
He smiles, small and sincere, and looks Dean straight in his eyes as he moves forward to take him into his mouth as far as he can. Dean is bigger, heavier than Sam and he weighs perfectly on Castiel’s tongue for a second as he leaks abundantly on it; Castiel strains to take at least half of it in his mouth, watching Dean as his eyes widen and he moans low in his throat, hands coming up into Cas’ hair, a soothing weight as Cas chokes himself slowly on Dean’s dick. Spit and precome drips from Castiel’s lips and he tries to suck Dean clean. He moves backwards after a couple of seconds, Dean slipping out of his mouth as he feels Sam’s eyes on them. But this is for Dean and Dean only, as he’s the one that needs to be reassured that this is okay. They keep staring at each other and then Castiel speaks, voice rasped and raw.
“ Dean, I want to do that .” He smiles, and Cas knows he has him now because he rarely smiles, and when he does it’s special and just for Dean and his brother. “I really, really want to do that .”
Dean groans at that and in one swift motion he claims Cas’ lips with his own and kisses him like he never kissed him before. Deep and passionate and full of adoration, arms around him and hugging Cas to his body like he was hugging Sam when Cas found them earlier. Dean’s skin is warm against his own, and Castiel feels loved with a fierceness he never knew before, holding onto Dean for dear life as the kiss loses some of its intensity and dies down into little pecks of fondness on his lips. Dean kisses him one last time on his forehead as he opens his eyes, says “Lie down, Cas,” and makes quick work of what’s left of his own clothes.
Cas does, and he’s happy and relieved to find Sam kneeling beside his head, smiling down reassuringly like he knows what he’s feeling. Maybe he does; maybe the only person who can really understand him now is Sam. All this love he feels for Dean, scary and powerful and still matched in amount to the love he feels for Sam is too much for him to make sense of. He hopes he will get it, someday, but for the moment he’s perfectly fine laying there in between the two of them, loving them and being loved like his own family never did.
This is his family, Castiel thinks, and smiles up huge and happy into Sam’s kiss as he leans down, hands cradling his face.
He feels the mattress dip as Dean moves away, and Cas gasps into Sam’s mouth as he feels a foreign wetness between his legs. Sam whispers, “Relax, it’s just Dean,” and then he really feels it. Dean’s tongue licking up behind the weight of his balls and down to circle his hole, the rough, warm texture of it lapping over the sensitive stretch of flesh in between. It is weird and wonderful in its own way, and Castiel’s breath speeds up as he feels the wet tip of it breach him slightly, Dean moaning against him. Sam keeps kissing him slowly, leisurely occupying him until he feels something else. Dean’s finger is already knuckle deep inside Cas as he groans low and dirty into Sam’s mouth, hips starting to pump to get more of it as Dean gently crooks the tip around to stretch him. It burns a little; it’s uncomfortable in all the right ways and the combined feeling of Dean’s tongue and his finger fucking him has Cas reduced to a trembling mess in Sam’s arms as his lips slide away and he pants into his neck.
A second finger joins the first, and the tongue leaves him for a second as Dean murmurs, “Fuck, Cas, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to—” He moans then as Castiel pushes down and takes both fingers inside himself with a pleased, blissed out groan into Sam’s flesh. “—shit, I can’t wait to see you stretched around my cock.”
Sam whimpers too at that, and Castiel opens his eyes to find him fisting himself, hip raising up to meet the motions of his hand as the other one keeps stroking Cas’ hair.
“ I want,” Dean continues, eager and unfiltered and completely, absolutely filthy, “I want you to come on my dick, baby. Cas, you hear me?” A third finger, and Castiel grips Sam’s wrist, still buried in his messy locks, moaning his assent.
“ Yeah. Yes, Dean. Please—” he tries, but he can’t concentrate enough to keep going, the scissoring fingers inside him distracting him and filling his with delicious pressure. He’s sure that he could come untouched just by this; hearing Dean dirty-talking him through it, Sam jerking himself off at the sight and Castiel in the middle of it would be enough to have him make a mess of himself without a finger laid on his fucking cock.
“ Please what, baby?” And Dean kisses him, actually kisses him there where his fingers are splitting him open. Dean and his being tender in the most absurd ways, a swell of affection adding up to the millions of feelings swirling inside Castiel’s belly. “Tell me, Cas.”
“ Now. Fuck—” He strains himself, grits his teeth through the shiver racking up his body. “—me.”
Dean hums contentedly and keeps the unhurried motion going, seemingly unconcerned by Castiel’s aggravation.
“ Do it, Dean.”
Cas is startled by the firm tone of Sam’s voice coming from his side. He opens his eyes and sees Dean’s head raising from between his legs and look up at his brother, just as surprised. Dean’s hair is spiking in a thousand different directions, lips parted and shining, his breath coming out in pants as he licks his lips. His eyes never waver from Sam’s face.
“ It’s good,” Sam says softly, and Dean nods in understanding.
“ Yeah. Yeah, baby, sure.” Dean’s head drops again and another sweet kiss later both fingers and tongue are gone, leaving Castiel a whimpering little thing mourning their loss. He blinks his eyes and he’s not surprised to have his vision blurred by tears of frustration. He’s aching with the force of his want, vibrating deep inside with energy that needs to be released.
Sensing this, Sam leans down and kisses the tears away before they fall down his cheeks; he kisses his forehead and nose, then his lips, suckling soothingly at his bottom lip as Dean prepares himself with a generous dollop of lube. The noise he makes is obscene, his hand sliding up and down and making slick sounds as he lubricates his dick. The bed dips under his weight as he crawls on all fours over Castiel, and as Sam leaves his mouth Castiel looks up at Dean and his smile is all for him. He feels warm all over, blushing furiously under Dean’s scrutiny and even more as Dean speaks.
“ You’re fucking beautiful, Cas. You’re so pretty, all ready and laid out for me — you have no idea.”
Cas looks away, suddenly embarrassed and over excited, squirming as Dean puts his hands over his hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones nonchalantly. “What do you say, Sammy. Isn’t he pretty?”
“ Yeah,” Sam says in a breathless whisper, still stroking himself, “he is, Dean.”
Then Dean lowers over Cas and kisses him, and Cas is lost in the sensation as he feels Dean’s cock nudging him right behind his balls, this time without any fabric in between. He’s all slick and slippery, sliding up along Cas’ own erection and then down again, tension building tenfold as it finds Cas’ hole and pushes against it without really breaching him. Dean stops kissing him at that and trails a wet strip down his neck and up to his ear, biting down on his lip as his hips move slowly, the head of his cock gently testing him. “Cas—this is it. I’ll stop if you tell me to, but you have to tell me, otherwise I might—Just, just tell me to stop and I will, I promise you. I don’t wanna hurt you. I’ll never hurt you, baby, you understand me?”
Cas nods and loves Dean more than he ever did, stroking his hair and hugging him tight to his chest as he opens his legs further, hiking one up over Dean’s hip. “Yeah Dean, I get it. You won’t hurt me, I trust you.”
“ Good. Good boy, Cas.”
And then Dean pushes inside him and it all changes; Castiel feels his eyes roll back into his head as Sam strokes his hair and murmurs nonsense in his ear, Dean filling him slowly, panting in his neck and trembling with the strain to stay still, to give Cas time to adjust.
It is amazing; it burns like hell and it’s uncomfortable, but it will pass, Cas knows it will. “Okay?” Dean whispers, and it’s so intimate Castiel would cry if he wasn’t experiencing what he’s sure saints have called pure bliss before. “Okay,” he pants back, and adds, “Keep moving,” for good measure. Dean grunts and obeys, and just like that, inch by inch he fills Castiel with himself, pulsing inside him in time with Castiel’s racing heart.
Cas loses himself for a second, imagining Dean’s life force leaking into himself, giving him strength and asking for nothing in return. Castiel would give anything to Dean and Sam, but the fact that they never demanded anything he wasn’t willing to give in the first place makes Cas appreciate them even more.
His eyes sting and tears fall freely down by the time Dean’s fully seated in his body, but they’re tears of happiness and Castiel smiles madly through them.
I love you , he wants to say. I love both of you so much my heart hurts with it . But he stays silent and grounds himself through the touch of Sam’s fingers as they wipe the moisture away without asking any questions, and pushes his head back, hips canting Dean’s way and encouraging him with his whole body to move further.
Dean doesn’t need to be told twice as he slowly retreats a couple of inches and then pushes back in again, pressing into Cas’ body and trapping his erection in between the two of them; sweet, sweet friction distracts Castiel from the little sparks of remaining discomfort and he groans loudly, nails digging into Dean’s shoulder blades. Dean takes the hint and starts pumping his hips faster and deeper as he showers Castiel’s face with kisses, licking at the salty traces of the tears that got away from Sam’ careful fingers.
The bed dips beside him and distantly Castiel realizes that Sam has moved, positioning himself behind him, both his hands landing over his collarbones to keep him pressed into the mattress as Dean fucks him. Dean moves too, raises onto his elbows and then on his knees, dragging Cas along by the hips in one swift, powerful motion. It’s though Castiel weighs nothing, Dean moving him were he wants him without a second thought.
Looking down at Cas, Dean keeps thrusting into him, a look of concentration over his flushed face as he obviously enjoys what he sees. His brother cradling Castiel as Dean has his way with him must surely be a sight to behold, and Dean smiles deliriously as one hand grips Cas’ erection gently and strokes him in time with the pumping of his hips. Dean looks up and his stare lands on Sam, caressing Castiel’s skin with one hand and jerking himself with the other.
“ Fuck— you’re both so beautiful. Look at you, oh shit,—”
That has to be too much for Sam because Castiel hears a sharp intake of breath and then Sam’s fingers are digging into his collarbone as Sam comes all over his own stomach, hissing in pleasure around the sound of his brother’s name.
Dean’s rhythm picks up at that, and with Sam now lying spent beside him, half dazed look and satisfied grin, Cas can do nothing but enjoy the ride and Dean’s whole attention. He fucks back on Dean’s cock and up into his hand, trying to get himself off and lacking something, the little push that would make him go supernova and leave the earthly plane behind. Dean grips him tight around the waist, fingertips digging and bruising deliciously around his jutting hipbone, and Cas wants that hand; craves it and needs it and without much thought he pries it from his flesh and brings it to his lips. He sucks two fingers inside his mouth, licking around them as Dean moans obscenely from above him, and then Cas takes them out to rest the hand on his neck.
And Dean, Dean who knows him, who gets him like no one before, Dean tightens the hold around his neck, gradually cutting his air supply off and giving Cas freedom and light, tiny stars bursting into the corners of his eyes as his vision threatens to black out and abandon him, but still doesn’t. It doesn’t because Dean would never hurt him; he will always take care of him as he does with Sam, and Cas is secure in this knowledge as he looks up into his green, green eyes and loves , feeling himself swelling impossibly into Dean’s hand and exploding just as Dean’s fingers around his neck relax, the phantom weight of them still there as white ribbons of come paint his stomach in between Dean’s curses.
“ Fuck—” and it comes broken, ripped out of Dean like this is something he never expected. He keeps fucking Cas, ever deeper, faster, as he lets himself fall forward and catches his weight on his elbows, folding around Castiel and kissing him through the aftershocks on his orgasms as his hands hold him to his body. Passionate, possessive and with infinite tenderness Dean kisses his neck and the bruise that must be forming already, and Cas feels his hips stutter, his movements faltering. By the time Dean brokenly whispers into Castiel’s ear that he loves him, that they love him, will never leave him , ever Cas , Dean is coming, filling Castiel up with warmth and the joy of being part of something special, unique and theirs .
The bed is small for the three of them to sleep in, but Castiel doesn’t really mind and neither do Sam or Dean, judging by the way they happily snuggle into him and keep gently snoring their dreams away.
The afternoon bleeds into the evening. The feeble light of a streetlamp lands on the bed, tracing a strip to the end of the small room, up the little shelves by the door with Sam’s books and Dean’s old albums. Castiel thinks he can make out a picture sitting on the third shelf, between “Lord of the Flies” and Dean’s “Batman: Year One,” but he’s not that sure about it. Mostly he just knows this room and its details too well, so he knows that picture is one of the three of them out in the Kansas fields and it was taken a year ago, and he doesn’t need to see it clearly to be sure of it.
It’s a beautiful picture, the three of them smiling after a day spent driving around in the Impala. Castiel remembers everything from that day perfectly. He remembers how hot it was outside, how thirsty he had been and how much they ate sprawled on a blanket in the middle of an abandoned field. Mostly, though, he remembers he felt free.
He takes a look at the clock on the bedside table, sees that it’s seven p.m. and Castiel knows that it’ll be time soon for him to get up and have Dean drive him home. He doesn’t look forward to it, but knows that is inevitable nonetheless.
Lilith is sufficiently scared by the Winchesters protective ways towards her son that she keeps the abuse to the minimum by now; in the last three weeks he's only been beaten once, and Dean’s rage when he saw the bruises was something fierce and terrifying. It took hours for him to calm down and accept that going back to Cas’ home to make a scene wouldn’t amount to anything but trouble, so he just took a deep breath and called Lilith, threatening her subtly for the last time. She took the coldness in Dean’s tone seriously, and from then on Cas found he could come and go to the Winchesters whenever he wanted, only going back home to sleep to not bring forth any trouble. Dean was almost eighteen and that bitch Lilith would be very well capable of calling the cops on them screaming that her baby boy was being kidnapped if she set her mind to it. Nobody would believe her, of course, not with the medical records speaking of one too many suspicious injuries, but still.
So he always came back and endured the verbal abuse if not the physical ones, and so he will do tonight as well. Most of the time he sneaks out anyway, so it’s okay, really. But for the moment he’s safe and warm, a bit sore but it’s the pleasant kind of sore, and he doesn’t want to move.
He closes his eyes and burrows deeper into the space the brothers carved for him. Sam’s arms hug him and Castiel feels him snugging closer from behind as Dean huffs a contented sigh. Cas’ lips leave a kiss into his shoulder and he lays his head in the crook of Dean’s neck.
It’s okay, they’re okay and as time passes they’ll be even better. They have each other and nothing else matters but this, so Castiel stops worrying and lets himself drift off again, thinking about sunsets and riding in the backseat of the Impala as they leave their shitty town behind into a whirling cloud of dust.