Omigod, pronouns. If this weren't a gift to you, NixDucky, I'd definitely have made you beta. Maybe sometime when it's not your birthday you can point out all the places where I have antecedent issues.
But for today, just relax, eat a bunch of cake, and avoid as much work as possible! I hope this is the best birthday yet!
"You took my car!" Dean yelled into the phone. "Did you really think I'd be okay with that?"
"Dean." The mild reproof in the low, gravelly voice was enough to make him relent. It wasn't sure why it was enough, but it was. It just . . . it just made him want Cas around again. He felt better with Cas around.
"Did you mean what you said?" Cas asked, his voice soft in the speaker of the phone. "About the three of us being better together?"
"Of course I meant it."
"Then . . . help me with this."
"Dammit, Cas." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to volunteer as bodyguard for Rosemary and her baby?"
"He's not a threat, Dean. If you'd felt what I felt . . ."
"Did you happen to read Son of Rosemary? Because I did, and everybody loved that guy right up until he unleashed the devil."
"All the more reason for you to help me. No one else could bind Lucifer the way you have. This baby will need protection from him as much as anyone else will. Probably more."
"Cas." Dean wanted to yell at him some more, but he was already relenting. "This is the kind of thing that makes a man go prematurely gray."
Cas sensed his weakness and pounced. "Please, Dean. I need you."
Fuck.
"Fine. Bring Kelly back here. If she can get that thing inside her past the wards of the bunker, we'll . . . see what we can do."
Cas's fervent "Thank you," left Dean feeling warm inside. He hung up the phone and scratched absently at his bare stomach. Between Cas and Sam, it was a wonder he ever made a single practical choice. The two of them were poison to the rational mind.
"Raising Lucifer's bastard," he muttered.
He moseyed his way back to his bedroom and pushed through the door. Sam was sitting up in one of the twin beds they'd shoved together, reading an old book from the bunker's library. He didn't look up when Dean entered.
"Cas is coming back," he said, sliding under the blankets next to Sam.
"I figured." He still didn't look up.
"What do you mean, you figured?"
"Like he was going to stay away. He's addicted to you."
"Whatever. He's bringing Kelly back. I told him we'd help him with . . . whatever happens next."
"Uh huh."
"'Uh huh' what? Like you knew he was going to ask us that?"
"Yep. And I knew you'd say yes, too. And you know what? Maybe that's okay."
Dean snatched the book out of his hand. "What the hell are you talking about? Has this thing addled your brain?" He shook the book as though trying to free Sam's sanity from the pages.
"Look, Kelly and Cas have both felt this kid's power, and they both swear it's something good. Maybe we should just trust them."
"The kid is the son of Lucifer."
"He's the son of an archangel. And we've know too many self-serving, bloodthirsty angels for me to say that's automatically a good thing, but aren't we supposed to be all Team Freewill? Don't you think we should give the kid a chance to choose his path?"
Dean was more convinced than he wanted to be. He crossed his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together.
"I was thinking we could set up a room at the end of the hall for the nursery," Sam went on, taking his book back. "Bathroom on one side, Kelly's room on the other. We're going to have to get a crib. And a changing table."
"You're making a shopping list?"
Sam shrugged. "What else am I going to do? Cas has made up his mind, and it's not like he's going to walk away and never see you again. Neither one of you would allow it."
Dean stared at him, wondering just how closely he'd been watching them. "You make it sound like I'm—"
"What? In love with him?" Sam wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in for a kiss. "You are. Hey, check this out." He held out the book for Dean to see. "Iron chains, powder coated with a salt blend. So the wind can't blow it away. Smart, right?"
"Sam! I am not getting all hearts and flowers over Cas."
"You're not all hearts and flowers over me, either." He put the book aside and flipped off the lamp.
"That's different."
"No it's not. You're not big on romance, but that's not what it's about with us and it's not what it's about with you and Cas."
"How the hell am I sitting here in bed with you listening to you tell me I'm in love with somebody else?"
"It's weird, right?" He tugged the blanket up to his shoulders. "You should be lying down. It's cold in here.
"Sam, this is serious. Do you really think I'm—that I would—"
"What? Cheat? I mean, with someone other than the dozens of women you've picked up in various bars?"
"That's . . . no. Can you even cheat on your brother?"
"Probably not."
"But . . . we've still got, like, an understanding. I mean, you come first to me. Always."
"Got it. But Cas is second, right?"
He paused, mulling over the question. Sam was almost right. Cas was sort of second, but sort of higher than that. He was . . . first part two. Which sounded dumb, so he just said, "Yeah."
"While we're shopping for furniture, we should buy a bigger bed. You might want to get us a couple extra credit cards, by the way. Babies need a lot of crap."
"Stop it, Sam. I mean it." He felt around for him in the dark, finding his broad chest and running a hand over it. "You can't possibly be this cool about everything."
"Why not? Because the brother I sleep with every night is in love with an angel who's determined to play nanny to the devil's baby? I'm sorry, Dean, but if you're waiting for me to get jealous, it might be a while. We've got bigger things to worry about."
"Like a possible apocalypse. Again."
"And babyproofing. There's going to be a hell of a mess to clean up if Lucifer Jr. wanders into the archive and starts opening curse boxes."
"We should buy some padlocks."
"Iron ones."
"And maybe put some of that salt coating on them."
"Good idea." Sam rolled on top of him and started trailing kisses down Dean's chest. Dean was already hard when Sam's mouth closed over him, and he moaned in pleasure. There was no way it could really be this easy, but as long as Sam was acting all chill, Dean was going to go with it.
Sam spent the next morning on the phone. Dean tried a couple of times to figure out who he was calling and why, but Sam only mumbled something about networking before launching into a conversation with someone named Kate. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was trying to make him jealous, but if Sam was watching him for a reaction, he couldn't tell.
So he went shopping. There would be four of them that night, and he thought it would be a good idea to have some food around. He maxed out a credit card stocking the pantry and then started a round of steaks marinating. He took Sam's advice and filled out a handful of new fake credit card applications, and he was just sending off the last one when he heard a loud "Ha!" from Sam.
"What?" Dean asked, watching his brother hang up the phone.
"Nora Havelock."
Dean blinked.
"Do you remember her? We met her years ago. Turns out, she's a midwife."
"Um. Great?"
"She's also a witch."
Realization started to dawn. "Oh. She can help with Kelly."
"As well as anyone can, I think. Plus, she said she'd email me a change of ownership spell so we can take possession of the bunker and ward it against the Men of Letters."
"Damn. Nice going, Sam."
"She said she'd come by next week to give Kelly a check-up. She's not cheap, though, so we should probably advance ourselves some cash from whatever cards we're about to toss."
"I'll take care of it."
"Hey, Dean?" Sam caught his eye and flashed his dimples. "You're such a good provider. You'll be an amazing father."
Dean threw a pencil at him.
Kelly strolled through the door to the bunker without the slightest hesitation. Which didn't prove any-damn-thing, but Cas was back and somehow that helped. He didn't come in, though. When Sam ushered Kelly through the door, Cas just stood outside, his gaze fixed on Dean.
Dean looked back, dread tightening in the pit of his stomach when he saw that the angel wasn't coming inside. "What did you do?" he demanded.
Cas's brows furrowed.
"Dammit, Cas. What weird hoodoo did you work that would keep you from getting through the bunker's wards?"
"What? No, I—" He stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him.
Dean nearly went limp with relief. But Cas was still standing there, not moving from the threshold. There was an odd ache in Dean's throat, and he swallowed hard against it.
After a long moment, Cas held out his hand. Dean's keys rested in the center of his palm.
"I'm sorry I took your car."
Dean wanted to tell him to keep it. He wanted to snatch the keys away and tell him he'd crossed a line. He wanted to tie him to a kitchen chair so he couldn't fucking leave again. But he just shoved the keys in his pocket and watched Cas watching him.
"Thank you," Cas finally said.
"For what?"
"For letting us come back."
"Yeah, well." Dean crossed his arms over his chest to keep his hands firmly under his control. "I still think we should do the grace extraction."
Cas just shook his head. Dean somehow knew that was the end of it. There would be no more discussion.
Cas's eyes moved to look over Dean's shoulder, and he glanced back. Sam had reappeared, this time without Kelly.
"Are you guys just going to stand here all day?" he asked.
Neither of them answered.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Let's get some coffee."
Dean was grateful for the excuse to move. They followed Sam to the kitchen, but once there Dean couldn't quite bring himself to sit at a table. He was too . . . tight. Too stiff. Too unrelaxed to do a relaxed thing like sitting. Cas stood as well, the two of them maintaining an awkward silence while Sam spooned grounds and poured water. When he finished he turned around and looked at them, taking a moment to examine them in their discomfort. He leaned back against the counter, his eyes shifting from one to the other, and finally he straightened. He strode directly over to Cas, leaned down, and kissed him.
Cas startled and pulled away, his eyes flicking to Dean. But Sam didn't let him go. He took Cas's chin in his hand, tilted it up, and kissed him again.
This time Cas accepted him, sinking into the kiss, though Dean didn't miss the furrowed brows and tense shoulders. Still, he raised his arms and settled them around Sam's waist, and Dean felt a little flutter low in his stomach. Sam pulled Cas against his body and the fluttering solidified into something much more substantial. The kiss lingered, slow and intense, until finally, with a couple of soft, sweet pecks to Castiel's lips, Sam pulled back. As one, the two of them turned to look at Dean.
He felt the weight of their expectation settle onto him. Which wasn't great because he was feeling a little off-balance from Sam's little show. He didn't know how to react to what he was seeing, but his reaction seemed very important to the two men whose gazes were fixed on his. Seconds ticked by in silence, until he saw Sam's hand leave Cas's waist and extend in his direction. Not far, not reaching for him, but his fingers twitched, beckoning Dean toward them.
Which is what he really wanted. He really wanted to be closer. To Sam and to Cas. This situation that Sam had put him in was forcing him to acknowledge the desire that pulled him in two directions. Sam and Castiel, the two of them always tugging at him, and choosing Sam—which he always would—inevitably distance him from Cas.
Only now they were standing there together. They were both pulling him in the same direction.
Which made all of this very simple, really. There was no choice. All he had to do was step forward and accept the gift that was being offered. As long as accepting it wouldn't do the kind of damage that it had the potential to do.
His eyes sought Sam, trying to read him. He didn't want this to be a sacrifice that his brother made for him. He didn't want it to be something that Sam might end up resenting. But there was no sigh of defensiveness or resignation. It was all invitation.
Of course, if he stood there much longer, he was going to start seeing impatience. And he really, really liked what he was seeing now. So he took a step forward, his gaze shifting to Castiel's anxious, unsettled expression, and then took another step. He saw hope replace some of the anxiety. He closed the distance between them and slipped his hands under the lapels of the angel's coat, pushing it off of his shoulders. His hands followed it down Cas's arms, and then he tugged it off of him and tossed it onto the kitchen table.
"You can take this off when you come home," he murmured, intensely aware of how close they were standing.
Castiel nodded. The anxiety was gone, but the intensity was still there. Dean hesitated for a moment, not out of insecurity but out of a simple desire to prolong the moment. To relish the heavy expectation that vibrated between them. And then he wrapped his arms around the man he'd never allowed himself to get too close to before, and he kissed him hard.
Castiel groaned, and whatever control Dean had left slipped away. He pawed at him, desperate to feel that contours of his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He was sliding his hands down to Cas's backside when he felt Sam press against him from behind and start sucking at his neck below his ear. It was too much sensation all at once, and Dean lost himself in it. He practically whimpered when Sam slid his hand down to palm his cock, and he realized the back of his hand was rubbing against Cas at the same time.
He probably wouldn't have noticed the soft throat-clearing if Sam hadn't suddenly jerked away from him. He looked back over his shoulder to see Kelly standing in the doorway, one hand rubbing absently at her pregnant Belly.
She scanned the scene in front of her and her eyes settled on Sam, whose hand wasn't still squeezing an angel's ass. "You guys have a TV?"
"Uh." Sam ran a hand through his hair. "You can watch Netflix on the laptop. I'll grab it for you." With a glance back at Dean and Cas, he disappeared through the door with her.
Dean took a step back from Cas. It felt weird without Sam there. Like anything they did outside his presence was . . . unsanctioned. Whatever happened between them couldn't end up hurting Sam. That was a line he wouldn't cross.
Neither of them said anything, but though it was a little uncomfortable, he didn't feel pressured to say anything. Speaking was a challenge for him, and it probably was for Cas, too. Dean suspected that Cas sometimes felt the way he did, like words were somehow his second language and his meaning didn't always come out right when he tried to use them.
Castiel was watching him now, still breathing deeply, his face showing its usual intense focus but nothing else.
"Is this . . . okay?" Dean asked, which wasn't at all what he meant.
"Yes."
"But, I mean, is it good? Is it something you want?"
"Yes."
If he'd answered with gushing enthusiasm, he wouldn't be Cas. Dean didn't want him any different than he was, but he also didn't want to be catered to by Cas anymore than he wanted to be sacrificed for by Sam.
"Cas—"
"Yes."
Dean smiled. Somehow, that convinced him. He gestured toward door in invitation and Castiel followed him back to the dormitory wing. Dean caught Sam's eye as they passed by the library and he nodded. He would find them when he finished with Kelly. He led Sam back to his room—the one Sam shared with him most nights—and sat down on the side of the bed.
Cas lingered in the doorway, scanning the room. His eyes settled on the bed.
"You sleep in here," he said.
Dean nodded.
"You . . . the two of you. Together."
"Yeah." Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes." Cas walked stiffly to the bed and sat, leaving a good three feet between himself and Dean.
Dean figured there was a pretty good chance that he would lose his goddamn mind before Sam joined them again. He was hard and aching, and he wanted nothing more than to rub himself all up on Castiel, but he couldn't seem to navigate the distance between the two of them without Sam's guidance.
He looked over at his friend, who had fixed his gaze on a bottle of lube that sat on the night stand. The thought of Cas and lube made him want to crawl out of his skin, but all he could do was sit there and stare at him.
He was still watching Cas and thinking about lube when Sam appeared in the doorway. He looked back and forth between the two of them, a smirk tugging at one side of his mouth.
"What's wrong? Did you guys forget how it's done?"
Dean narrowed his eyes at him, but Cas said, "I understand the theory but I have yet to gain personal experience."
Sam laughed out loud and strode over to the bed, dropping down between them. He wrapped an arm around Cas and kissed his temple. "Lay down," he said, releasing him and gesturing toward the center of the joined beds.
Cas lay back, leaving his feet planted on the floor.
Sam chuckled and patted his hip. "Scoot back."
He complied, pushing himself back until he was lying sideways across the pair of beds.
"Dean," Sam said, meeting his eye with a fiery look of his own. "Take his tie off."
He'd only wanted to do that for a fucking decade. He crawled to Cas's side and tugged at his necktie, sliding it out from under his collar. And then he found he couldn't stop. He started undoing buttons one by one, letting the back of his fingers brush over the warm skin of Castiel's chest and abs. Cas sighed and let his eyes slip closed, going limp while Dean took off his shirt and Sam removed his shoes and socks.
Dean couldn't help himself. He leaned over Cas, nipping his lower lip and then dipping his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeply. Cas moaned and tugged him nearer, and Dean complied by straddling him, hovering over him on hands and knees until Sam's broad hand settled onto his back and pushed him down on top of Cas. For a moment he wanted to shoot off some snarky remark about Sam being a little too pushy—but Cas was hard and so was he, and with their hips suddenly pressed together, nothing else seemed to matter all that much. He rocked against him, vaguely aware that Sam was tugging at his tee shirt now. It was annoying when he pulled it over Dean's head because he had to separate his lips from Cas's for a second. But soon it was gone and he was kissing him again, and their skin pressed together was too decadent to be resisted.
He felt Sam's hands on his shoulders, warm and firm, and then his brother's lips at his ear whispered, "Suck him."
Dean groaned, all too happy to comply. He kissed his way down Cas's chest, and as he went he felt Cas's fingers thread through his hair. He tugged open the button of Cas's pants, pulled his clothes away, and took his hard cock deep into his mouth. Castiel's choked breath almost drowned out the quiet click of the lube bottle in Sam's hand.
While he sucked, Sam tugged his pants off and began rubbing cold lube into his ass. Dean pushed back against him, felt bare skin. Sam was naked already. "Take off his pants," he whispered in his ear. "Turn him over." And it was too fucking hot for him to ask Sam when he'd gotten so bossy.
He did what Sam asked, kneeling over him again, and quickly got distracted by Cas's back. He kissed and licked, stroking the muscles on the sides of his torso until Sam pulled him back, rubbing his cock against Dean's ass. He reached around him with lubed fingers and slowly pushed them into Castiel's ass, drawing a low moan from him. Dean closed his eyes, felt Sam's free hand close around his cock, and let out a growl as his brother started to stroke.
"Cas," Sam murmured, "tell me when you're ready."
His voice was muffled by the pillow he'd buried his face in. "I'm ready."
Sam slid his fingers out of Castiel's ass and gripped his hip. He guided Dean's cock into position, then withdrew his hand and whispered, "Fuck him."
Dean pushed forward, sinking inside Castiel, and felt him stiffen beneath his hands.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice sounding gravelly.
"Yes," Cas whispered.
Dean started to pull out, but Castiel shook his head. "Just . . . a minute . . . please."
Dean stilled, letting Cas get used to him. But it wasn't easy, because he could feel his brother behind him, massaging him, lining himself up to enter him. Sam waited until Cas said "Okay," in a tight, breathless voice before thrusting hard into Dean, forcing him deeper into Cas.
"Oh, fuck," Dean mumbled, overcome with sensation. He was intensely aware of his position, pressed between two hard bodies, Sam hitting just that spot from behind while he stroked into the tight heat of Castiel's ass. There was no part of him that didn't feel incredible.
Sam reached around him, grabbed a fistful of Cas's hair and pulled back, forcing him to arch his back, while thrusting forward again and driving Dean into him. He trembled with a surge of overpowering need, and he slid his hand under Cas, gripped his cock, tried to give him the same kind of pleasure he was getting.
Sam set the pace for them, driving in with hard, slow thrusts that drove Dean crazy. One hand continued to grip Cas's hair while the other held Dean's hip. He whispered dirty things into Dean's ear, driving him crazy.
Cas was the first one to lose it. He cried out Dean's name, rubbing hard against his hand, and the warmth of his release on his fingers sent Dean over the edge. He growled out a string of curses, shoving hard into Castiel until he was coming too, overwhelmed by the intensity of it. Sam held them there, keeping them in position for several more thrusts, until he, too, reached his peak. He released his hold and collapsed on top of them, the three of them panting in a sweaty, sticky pile for several long minutes.
When he had caught his breath, Sam rolled off of them. Dean, feeling deeply relaxed and a little bit playful, rolled himself right over Sam and onto his other side, pressing himself up against his brother's long body. Cas shifted onto his side too, just watching them, until Sam slid an arm under him and pulled him closer.
Dean grinned at Cas across Sam's chest. "Fucking hell."
The corners of Cas's mouth quirked up.
"So . . ." Sam said, sounding less happy than Dean felt, "I probably owe you guys an apology."
"For that?" Dean propped himself up on his elbow. "No apologies necessary."
"No." He frowned, looking up at Dean. "This," he gestured between the three of them, "could have happened sooner. Maybe it should have. But I wasn't ready."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I mean, I saw what was going on with you guys and it didn't bother me. But . . . Dean, things were so weird between us for a while. We were fighting a lot and getting on each other's nerves, and I just thought . . . I thought if you had someone else, you wouldn't try to work it out with me."
Dean pinched his side, making him yelp. "That's stupid."
"Yeah, well, maybe it is and maybe it isn't." He batted Dean's hand away before he could pinch him again. "But I felt like I needed extra time. So I asked for it."
Dean looked over at Cas, who rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The man looked really good naked, and it threatened to distract him from the conversation, so he tried hard to focus on his face. "You guys talked about this?"
The room was silent for a moment, and then Castiel said, "Not exactly."
"I . . . uh . . ." Sam cleared his throat. "I prayed."
"You prayed." Dean stared at Sam, who also seemed to be finding the ceiling very interesting.
"Yeah."
"You prayed to keep Cas and me from being together."
"Temporarily. I just asked him to wait."
"With all of heaven as an audience."
"Fuck heaven. Who cares what they think? Most of them are dicks."
"All the more reason to keep them out of our business."
"A prayer is more compelling than a verbal request," Cas said. "And that helped me. Waiting for you has been . . . difficult."
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "Both of you."
Dean shook his head. "You know what? You don't need to be. If you weren't comfortable with it, you had every right to hold off. But I need to know if you're really comfortable with it now."
He nodded, no hint of reservation in his face. "Yeah. I am."
"And Cas?" Dean asked. "This is all good for you?"
His face remained solemn, though Dean could see the brightness in his eyes. "I look forward to repeating this experience."
He snorted. "Yeah, well, you know what they say. Once the baby comes, your sex life dies."
Castiel's eyes darkened. "Why?"
"Forget it," Sam said, shaking his head. "We'll figure it out. Plenty of sex, I promise."
He looked relieved. "In that case," he said, lying back down in the crook of Sam's arm, "I suggest you get a bigger bed.
"Funny." Sam smirked. "I was just saying the same thing this morning."