Dean didn't know what he was doing.
One moment he's talking to Sam about a case and the next thing he knows Sam's expressive face is being replaced by a look of neutral indifference, kind of like when he was soulless. But that wasn't the case this time. No matter how many times it happened, Dean was never really prepared for Ezekiel showing up unannounced.
"Zeke, what is so important that you have to interrupt me while I'm trying to talk to my brother?" Dean asks, voice heavy with irritation.
Not because he hates Zeke, but because how in the hell is Dean supposed to remember where he left off during his conversation with Sam when the angel leaves?
"It has come to my attention that Sam loves you very much, Dean," Ezekiel informs as he assumes Sam's voice.
"Well, siblings usually do love each other," Dean deadpans, getting annoyed by the obvious comment that needn't be warranted an interruption. "It's called being family."
"The love I'm referring to goes beyond family, Dean," Ezekiel goes on to say and it feels so weird to hear Zeke say this in Sam's voice. "Love that isn't quite brotherly."
"I'm sure it's perfectly normal, Zeke. You probably just don't understand the difference between the types of love," Dean assures even though he can feel a slight shift in his posture.
"Then what does it mean to want to 'go down' on someone?" Ezekiel follows up after a brief moment of thought. "Because Sam wants to do that to you right now."
Dean flushes bodily and he has half a mind to call Zeke out on being a sick son of a bitch and to chastise him for delving into Sam's mind without permission, but his throat muscles contract nervously. To hear such a naive and innocent question uttered in Sam's voice left Dean at a momentary loss for words. Then, almost instantly, a knowing look of understanding spreads across his possessed brother's face as if Ezekiel has taken a moment to root around in Sam's mind for the very definition.
"Oh... That's what that means," Ezekiel almost says perplexed.
Sam, or rather Ezekiel, raises up out of the chair across from Dean and rounds the corner of the table, dragging his fingertips across the tabletop as he does. Dean watches as Ezekiel slowly makes his way over to him, noticing for a split second that the neutral expression is somewhat lust-filled. Almost as if Sam were in control for the briefest moment. But he wasn't. If it looks like Sam and talks like Sam, chances are it's just want Zeke wants him to see.
"Look, I don't know what you're up to, but I'd really like my brother back now," Dean orders firmly, hating how his voice cracks at the end.
"Up to?" Zeke echoes with a puzzled expression when he comes to stand in front of Dean. "I'm trying to help Sam."
Ezekiel opts to take a step forward and goes to kneel before Dean's slightly parted legs that are firmly rooted to the floor by worn boots.
"I could do the same for you as well, Dean. If you'd let me," Ezekiel says matter-of-fact, reaching out to run one of Sam's large hands up the expanse of Dean's thigh. "You can even pretend it's really Sam in here right now, if you want."
Sam's hand makes a steady beeline towards Dean's crotch only to have it snatched up quickly by Dean. Ezekiel snaps his head- Sam's head- up at Dean and tilts his face and all he can see is his little feigning innocence despite what his actions are implying. He almost looks as if he's expecting to be yelled at or chastised, but Dean doesn't do either of those. Instead, he slowly lets go of Sam's hand out of his death grip.
"Make it quick," Dean says is a resolute tone, face beet red. "Before I change my mind."
Ezekiel doesn't hesitate to follow through on his offer and immediately goes to undo the front of Dean's jeans that have started to tent with anticipation. Dean can feel his cheeks starting to burn with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt and it makes his heart beat a little faster, supplying his growing erection further with shame ridden lust.
This doesn't count, Dean tells himself. This isn't technically Sammy. This isn't wrong or frowned upon. It's fine.
And he believes it for a second.
But even as Dean repeats this in his head more and more, he knows what total bullshit it is and he's sure Ezekiel knows it as well. That doesn't deter Zeke from continuing what he set out to do, however, and when he successfully opens up the front of Dean's pants he hums with praise as if he were Sam.
Ezekiel uses Sam to pull Dean out of his jeans and wraps a big palm around the length of the older Winchester, marveling at the size for a moment. Ezekiel had never seen one up close before, never had the curiosity to do so either, but having Dean's hard member in his hand- Sam's hand- made him sit for a moment in thought.
"It's so big," Ezekiel points out even though he doesn't anything to compare it to.
He doesn't know what's considered big and what's not, he just says it because Sam would say it. Ezekiel is Sam right now and he has to act accordingly if he wants to make this real for Dean. He gives Dean an experimental stroke, earning him a low groan, as he avidly watches Dean's cock being enclosed by Sam's large hand.
"I've wanted this for so long," Ezekiel murmurs in a low tone, reciting the words as if recalling them from Sam's memory. "I've always wanted to know what you tasted like."
Dean doesn't know how Ezekiel knows these filthy things, maybe subconscious part of Sam's mind he delved into, but he ultimately doesn't care seeing as how his little brother is poised between his legs, on his knees, and inching closer until his lips brush against the tip of Dean's cock.
"Sam has quite the imagination," Ezekiel states, smiling coyly from between Dean's spread legs. "The things he'd let you do to him. Absolutely filthy."
Dean shudders at the contact, gasping when Sam circles his tongue around to moisten the way for his lips. Dean is captivated by the sight of his little brother bending down to take his cock into his mouth and throbs incessantly when he struggles to take all of him. He even whines around his mouthful as if he's frustrated with his inability to deepthroat him in one go.
Ezekiel feigns the naivety and innocence of Sam's demeanor so well that Dean almost believes it really is his brother and that makes another wave of shame crash over him. He doesn't stop him though. In fact, Dean reaches down and threads his fingers through Sam's hair and tugs on it firmly. He pushes Sam down further until he can feel the tip of his cock hit the back of his brother's throat, making him gag instantly.
"Come on, I know you can take it, Sammy," Dean urges, running his hands through silken hair he squeezes frequently. "Take my cock all the way in that pretty mouth of yours."
He doesn't really know where the words come from but they taste rich on the flat of his tongue as they roll off smoothly. Sam- Ezekiel- moans around his cock pathetically, looking up at Dean with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Dean loves the way they twinkle and flutter helplessly, but he hates how that makes him feel.
"You're so fucking sexy with my cock down your throat, Sammy," Dean praises, petting Sam's hair in loving, tender strokes. Sam slackens his jaw and accepts more of Dean's cock into his mouth. "That's it bitch. Take it like a good little whore."
It slips out without so much as a second thought, and Dean has to wonder how depraved he must be to call his little brother a whore let alone make him suck his cock. All coherent thought flies out the window when Sam- Ezekiel- starts to bob his head and suck harder.
Sam braces his hands on Dean's thighs and relaxes his throat muscles as Dean starts to thrust up into his mouth. Dean holds Sam's head steady as he fucks the back of his throat, grunting each time Sam gags. He swears under breath, insignificant little murmurs of fuck and shit, and Ezekiel puts on a good show for him.
Dean can feel the flat of Sam's tongue actively swirling around for extra stimulus, drawing out moans from deep within Dean's throat. Saliva begins to run out the sides of Sam's mouth and he coughs as a result, but holds fast. Dean can't help but think how great Ezekiel is doing despite it being his first time, but he figures he could learn easily from Sam's memories.
That thought makes the heat rise up high in Dean's cheeks, to think that Sam has done this before with someone else. He pushes it aside and concentrates on the feel of his little Sammy sucking his cock. It feels good, amazing even, but it isn't as enthusiastic as he'd have hoped. It feels more mechanical than anything and he wonders how it would be if this was really Sam.
Surely, Ezekiel doesn't come close to the real thing.
Despite all this, though, Dean grips harder on Sam's hair, yanking almost painfully, and practically lifts his whole body off of the chair just to thrust deep into Sam's throat. He can feel himself going numb from his impending orgasm and he groans when he looks down to find Sam- Ezekiel- is already watching him intently. The tears in his eyes only seem to spur Dean on.
"Such a good bitch. Fuck, you're gonna make me come Sammy. That what you want?" Dean strokes his thumbs across Sam's cheekbones and Sam replies with a fervent nod. "Tell me where you want it."
Sam pulls off of Dean with a wet choking gasp, sucking air greedily into his lungs as his blush spreads down his neck.
"In my mouth," Sam pants, gripping Dean's thighs hard. "Please, come in my mouth Dean."
And for a second, Dean really believes it's Sam. But it isn't.
But it's the closest he'll ever get.
Without a second thought, Dean yanks harshly on Sam's hair and shoves him back down the length of his throbbing cock. Dean comes just seconds after with a pathetic grunt of frustration, knowing it will never be the same if it were actually Sammy but lets the pleasure rip through him anyway. His hips raise up and the head of his cock bursts as come spurts out in pulsing waves.
"I'm sorry Sammy..." Dean says on a rush of breath. Guilt heavy in his voice as his orgasm subsides and he comes back to reality.
A short time later, after Dean cleans himself up a little and Ezekiel recedes back into the recesses of Sam's mind, he tries to act like nothing has happened. Like he didn't just have an angel possess his brother and ask to blow him off. Him and Sam are back to discussing a case like before, but Dean can't bring himself to look Sam in the eye. Not exactly, at least.
"Are you okay?" Sam eventually asks, looking as normal and healthy as ever. "You seem a little sketched out."
"I'm fine," Dean claims in a gruff tone, holding his composure even though Sam can see right through it. "I'm just thinking about that ass hat Metatron. And Abaddon. And Cas. I just hope he's okay."
It hurts having to lie to Sam, but what other options did he have? Tell him the truth? Oh, hey, Sammy I know the whole world has gone to hell in a handbasket, but I sorta tricked you into letting an angel possess you. Also, you just blew me. You know, just normal brother stuff. Great chat! He could never tell Sam the truth. A cold day in hell maybe.
"He's Cas. He'll always land on his feet," Sam assures, giving Dean his best fake smile.
As he does this, Sam's face twists into a sour look as if he's smelt or tasted something foul.
"Ack!" Sam exclaims, face pinched.
"What is it?" Dean inquires, sparing a glance up to study Sam's face. Part worried, part nervous.
"I don't know, man," Sam replies, moving his mouth around cautiously. "It tastes like I swallowed a bunch of salt recently. Yuck!"
"Weird..." is all Dean can say.
Sam gives him another look as if he knows something happened, like a long forgotten memory from his childhood clouded by years of fog. Dean panics for a brief second until the look finally ebbs away slowly and he can let out a quiet sigh of relief. Still, Dean can see a small flicker of awareness in Sam's eyes as well as a tiny flash of grace behind his pupils when he turns back to his laptop.
And Dean pretends like he doesn't notice it.