Kneeling Gods

by DC Derringer

With Castiel proclaiming himself God, Sam and Dean must resort to a drastic binding spell that requires them to have sex with Castiel every day to keep him under control.

Title: Kneeling Gods

Pairing: Wincestiel – with scenes of wincest, destiel, and sassy

Word Count: 20,000

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Angst, Dub-con (due to altered state of consciousness), mention of weecest, double penetration, collaring

Summary: With Castiel proclaiming himself God, Sam and Dean must resort to a drastic binding spell that requires them to have sex with Castiel every day to keep him under control.

AN: Written for the WincestielBang with much thanks to my betas fobsessed54 and saltandbyrn.

The last thing Castiel said to Sam and Dean was that he wanted their love. He wanted their affection and adoration, not fear. He had then threatened to destroy them if they interfered with his plans and disappeared to tend to the world. Really, he should have known better.

For several days, the Winchesters and Bobby were unsure what to do. Everyone was cracking under the stress; Sam in particular with his broken wall. They did what research they could, but there weren't any books covering this problem. They'd never dealt with a monster calling itself God before.

So they fell into a routine. Bobby did research and checked his contacts. Dean buried himself in working on the Impala, building her up from scratch, yet again. Sam spent his time trying to stay vertical as he was assaulted with flashbacks from Hell.

Dean joked when Castiel forced the KKK to disband, but as the death toll grew, and more innocent people were crushed under the brunt of Castiel's confused righteousness, the hunters grew restless and eager for a solution to the God problem. Desperation drove them once more to call upon Crowley, finding him oddly eager to help them scheme against the new boss, and freely offering a summoning spell for the last big gun they knew; Death.

"You better have a very good reason for binding me, Dean," Death said after he appeared before Bobby and the Winchesters. He looked thoroughly annoyed as he inspected the thin silver strands around his wrists that represented his binding.

"We need you to kill Castiel," Dean said with more confidence than he felt in the presence of Death. "You said you would reap God someday, so go on, get reaping."

"Reaping, of course. But I can't kill anything, Dean. I'm the result, not the cause. If you can find a way to off the arrogant little mutant, then I will step in. Not a moment before."

The three hunters looked at each other, defeated too soon, and stunned by it. Dean's mouth worked open and closed as he tried to think of something else to say. Death saw the bag of fried pickle chips and soda Dean had left out for him and sat down, nibbling on the offered snack.

"Don't you even care that people are dying?" Dean asked, his anger pushing through his fear of the powerful creature.

"No. Everything dies eventually," Death said, and took a loud slurp from the soda.

"It doesn't have to be today!" Dean said, exasperated. "Can't you tell us how to kill him?"

"There are many ways to kill a creature with as much power as Castiel," Death said, sipping more soda. "But, all of them are well beyond your means. However," Death went on, examining the silver threads around his wrists. "There might be a way to bind him."

"How?" Sam asked.

"You may not like what you'll need to do," Death murmured, studying the three men carefully.

"We'll do anything," Dean said. He knew about 'anything,' and knew what kind of price that could be, but despite that, he knew he could do it, if it would save innocent people.

"Then I know just the thing for your angel. Release me now, and I will help you," Death said, holding out his wrists for Dean.

Dean and Sam checked and then rechecked to make sure that all of the sigils painted on the house in invisible ink were correct. Bobby had made himself scarce and was hiding out in a motel in North Dakota, just in case the spell didn't work and Castiel smote the hell out of the Winchesters.

About an hour after sunset, as the house grew dark, the Winchesters finished. They were not quite certain that they were ready, but all of the preparations had been made. All they needed was for Castiel to appear.

"Castiel," Dean called softly, hoping that by using the angel's full name, he could imply his intended respect. "If you're not too busy, I hope you can come here. Sam and I have something important to tell you."

Dean had kept his voice low, humble, and respectful, so different from his usual prayers directed at the angel, which usually involved a lot of yelling and swearing. He could only hope that his word choice alone would be strange enough to garner Castiel's interest.

"What do you-?" Castiel started when he suddenly appeared in Bobby's living room. He cut himself off at the sight of the scene before him. Hearing Dean's politely worded prayer had surprised him, but the greeting he received upon his arrival was even more shocking.

Dean and Sam were kneeling on the floor, which was surprising enough. The Winchesters rarely knelt willingly to their enemies. But what was really so startling, that it had made Castiel speechless, was that the two brothers were naked.

The Winchesters were surprised themselves that Castiel had actually arrived, but much more so by his appearance. He was haggard, and dirty, and his face looked drawn and tired. He looked so different from the euphoria he'd held when he first gained all his power.

"What is this?" Castiel asked, the confusion blatant on his face.

"We wanted to apologize," Sam said, trying to look up at Castiel with adoration, rather than stare at the blotchy patches of skin on his face. Like his brother, he kept his voice low and polite.

"For what?" Castiel asked, eyeing the brothers suspiciously. He knew them well enough to be cautious and suspect some sort of trap, but he didn't know what they could be up to, and their nudity was strangely distracting, almost enough to make him forget the sound of all the clamoring souls inside him that were so hard to push down.

"For the way we treated you before," Dean went on. "We were just surprised. We didn't know how to act."

"I see," Castiel said. He looked at the brothers intently, staring into them, into their souls and their hearts. He was genuinely surprised that all of their thoughts were directed at him, full of devotion, love, and regret. Shocked as he was, Castiel also felt relief that the Winchesters had come to their senses on their own without further threat. He would have hated it if he needed to hurt them. But there was still one thing confusing about this situation, and even the souls inside him were curious, pestering him to ask.

"Why are you both naked?"

"You wanted us to profess our love to you," Sam said, a shy smile tugging his lips.

"Yes, but-" and then Castiel stopped again. He looked at the two brothers, naked, and kneeling on the floor in front of him, professing their love. Then, despite all his unknowable power, his omnipotence and omnipresence, the Winchesters managed to make God blush. The souls laughed and mocked him for his innocence.

"You're our friend, Cas," Dean said, his voice becoming more casual and familiar as he gave Castiel his most charming smile. "We betrayed you, so we want to make up for it. This is the only way we know how."

Dean stood up, his muscles shifting and pulling taut as he stretched up to his full height, a few inches taller than Castiel. Sam stood up as well, even taller than his brother. Castiel had to tilt his head up slightly to keep eye contact.

"I promised once I wouldn't let you die a virgin," Dean said, sliding his hand onto Castiel's shoulder soothingly. "Let us make that up to you."

Castiel's eyes slid back and forth between Dean and Sam, taking in their naked bodies, firm and pristine, and considered what they were offering him. If he was willing to admit it, the idea had crossed his mind, briefly, barely even as a fantasy. It was curiosity, wondering what it was that drew the fallen away from Heaven. There had been no one else to wonder about besides Dean and Sam, drawn to them as he was. As he considered this, the souls became raucously loud, and a few voices, louder than the other, made their lewd opinions heard.

Castiel shook his head, trying to clear away the voices, and slid his hand over the hand Dean had on his shoulder. He nodded his head while a small smile quirked his lips. "Of course you can," he said serenely.

Dean and Sam shared a look that betrayed their eagerness once Castiel agreed. The look quickly turned to hunger as they drew closer to him, their naked bodies sinuous and smooth.

"Let us take the lead, Cas," Sam said, his smile wider than before. "We'll show you how it's done."

Castiel allowed the Winchesters to undress him, peeling off the layers of clothing that adorned his vessel out of habit rather than necessity. The adoration was clear in their eyes as they admired Castiel's naked body, and their hands were further evidence as they trailed over him, caressing, stroking, grabbing gently.

Castiel concentrated all his power to beat back the voices and keep them silent, just long enough to enjoy himself with the Winchesters, without distraction. This left him to revel in the heat of Dean and Sam's body, overwhelming his senses. It was like electricity wherever they touched him, sending sparks over his skin. When he felt their erections, Dean's against his belly, and Sam's against his back, his own cock swelled in response.

Sam and Dean knelt on the floor, and with coaxing words, and tugging hands, they pulled Castiel down with them. He landed in Sam's lap with his back to the man's chest. He could feel Sam's cock against his ass, and the moisture dripping from the tip. Castiel thrilled at the sensation, reveling in this most obvious proof of their desire for him.

Kisses came next, long, slow, deep kisses. Dean was first, sitting in front of Castiel and slotting between his thighs to get close. He slid his tongue into Castiel's mouth, and Castiel could feel the worship in his movements. Behind him, Sam delivered lingering, suckling kisses to his neck and shoulders, marking him with red bruises that Castiel didn't bother to heal.

Sensation skittered over the surface of Castiel's skin and he moaned into Dean's mouth, surprising the hunter so much that he pulled away to stare at Castiel. But only for a moment, his eyes had quickly dilated, growing hungry, and then their lips were locked together again, hotter and harder.

Castiel writhed in Sam's lap, his body finding an instinctual rhythm that made Sam moan as Castiel shifted against his cock, grinding against it, trying to find more friction. But then Sam grabbed Castiel's hips and directed him, moving him just a bit to the left until Sam's cock slid between his cheeks, lining up against the cleft in his ass, and sliding back and forth. Sam and Castiel let out low groans as they lined up with each other and started to rub.

"Can I, Cas?" Sam panted into Castiel's ear, rubbing the tip of his cock a little more insistently against the tight bud between Castiel's cheeks.

"I want to feel you inside me," Castiel said to Sam, reaching down to grab Sam's cock, stroke it for a moment, and then guide it between his cheeks, lining it up with his hole so he could push back and take it all in.

"Cas! You need to wait," Sam yelped, trying to hold Castiel back, jerking his own hips away. But Castiel wouldn't allow that and held him in place while he got them into the right position again, and went back to taking Sam in. Sam groaned as the tight heat of Castiel's body enveloped him.

"You're wet," Sam managed to murmur with surprise as Castiel sank down lower.

"I am perhaps a bit impatient," Castiel admitted, smirking as he finally pressed his hips all the way down onto Sam's, leaving the man fully inside him.

Castiel let out a small sound of surprise as he felt fingers at his rim, stretching him where Sam was deep inside. Dean was kneeling between his legs, watching with wonder at the slippery feel of Castiel's insides.

"I want you, too," Dean said, looking up at Castiel with intense desire. He then surprised another low gasp out of Castiel as he pressed his cock up against Castiel, pushing at his already spread hole, nudging against his brother's cock as though asking for permission.

"I can't wait," Dean said, his voice breathless and husky. "Can you take it?"

Castiel nodded and let out the smallest gasp as Dean breached him, the head of his cock stretching him wide open, enough that it would have hurt if he was human. But he didn't let that happen, he only let the pleasure through, and forced his body to relax, made himself wetter and easier to push into. All the while, he kept his eyes locked on Dean's, eating up the desire he saw in the man's eyes as he rutted into Castiel.

That was what really overwhelmed Castiel. He could feel the Winchesters' desire for him. He could feel their love and compassion. The physical feeling of them inside was secondary. What burned Castiel with passion was what had drawn them to this state, their need for him, their worship of him. It left him panting and moaning in their arms as they rocked inside him, a jerky, shallow rhythm racing toward the end.

"Dean," Sam groaned, his voice strained. Castiel could feel every tremor of his body, and felt the pulse of Sam's cock, steadily moving toward release. He could feel the strain of Sam's muscles as he tried to hold back.

"Just a little longer, Sam," Dean grunted. His hips moved faster, trying to push himself toward his own release.

"You too," Sam husked into Castiel's ear. Sam slid his fingers around Castiel's cock, making Castiel moan softly. "Come with us."

Castiel nodded and gave into the physical, allowing himself to fully feel with his body as he was spread open and filled, as Sam stroked him, as Dean kissed him. He allowed the sensations to run rampant over his body and lead it toward the ending that was starting to pulse and throb in his lower belly.

"Almost Sam, almost…" Dean growled, his words disappearing into grunts and groans as he rubbed against his brother's cock in the process. The friction, the tightness, and the heat converged together into one brief moment, lifting them high, and then crashing them down.

Castiel let out a small cry as he felt the Winchesters come inside him, and felt his own release wash over him. It was wet, and hot, leaving him full and satisfied. The feeling of Dean and Sam inside him, going soft, along with their relaxing muscles was a comfort he knew he would cherish for a long time. He never thought he could have had this with the brothers. He never thought they could be this close.

Castiel was so completely at ease, that for a moment, he didn't even realize he was shrinking.

As an angel, Castiel had been large, about the size of the Chrysler building. But as God, he was immeasurable. He appeared small in his human shaped vessel, but his existence stretched throughout the universe, touching all the stars and planets. His consciousness spread back and forth in time, through the past, present, and future. He even spread himself into the alternate realities, like the one he had sent Sam and Dean to where there was no magic, and toyed with the idea of visiting them all and spreading the new Word.

But suddenly, the future disappeared, and all the souls started to scream. Castiel snapped to attention, almost covering his ears, as though that would help, and quickly realized that the past was fading, too. He tried reaching out for it, trying to focus on it and pull it back, but felt himself constricted.

"What's happening?" Castiel asked, panic rushing into him as he felt himself growing smaller and weaker, all his power crushing into his small human vessel, unable to push it out of himself again, to use it as he had done so easily before. The souls grew louder, more animalistic as Castiel turned with suspicion to the Winchesters, who were both pulling away from him, the heat of their lovemaking cooling quickly.

"What have you done to me?" Castiel asked, his voice a growl that mirrored the voices in his head.

"You were killing people," Sam said. The desire was gone from his eyes. Those heated looks he had directed at Castiel only moments ago disappeared. There was anger there now, and sorrow.

"My Father sat aside uncaring for too long. People need to know they will be punished."

"So do monsters," Dean said. His face had also changed. The charm and swagger of the lover was gone, replaced with the militant training of a hunter finishing a job.

"I'm not a monster," Castiel growled, his fury growing as his power shrank and compressed, moving so fast he couldn't control it. The souls thrashed inside him. He could feel their claws in his body, trying to escape him even harder than before, but he couldn't even strike out against the two young men before him. "I am God."

"A lot of monsters say that, too," Dean said. "But it doesn't matter what you are. If you kill people, we're going to stop you."

"I should have known that of all people, the Winchesters would find a way to kill God," Castiel said, a short humorless laugh bursting from his lips. His consciousness was little more than a spark now, and even the souls were growing quiet. With just the last traces of his control, he could sense the sigils they had painted on the house to guard their thoughts. He only had a moment more to wonder where they had found this power.

"We aren't going to kill you, Cas," Dean said, sorrow filling his eyes. "We found another way."

There was a bright flash of light that filled the house, the only physical sign of the spell finishing its job and binding all of Castiel's power in his body, leaving it under lock and key, but still there, pulsing under the surface. Castiel was left kneeling on the floor of Bobby's living room, much as he had been before, though a slim, metal collar had appeared around his throat. It glowed with power for several moments after the flash of light, but then faded to plain, dull metal.

Slowly, Castiel lifted his head to look at the Winchesters. His expression was blank and empty, his anger from moments ago completely gone. In its place was a serene and complacent smile that turned his lips up slightly as he gazed adoringly at Sam and Dean. Inside, the souls had gone completely silent.

"Cas, you OK?" Dean asked tentatively, after a few moments of Castiel's silence.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said serenely, still looking up at Dean and Sam with adoration in his eyes.

"Let's see if it worked," Sam said, giving his brother a nervous look. "Cas. Clean us up," he said in a clear, simple command.

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said. He didn't even blink or gesture in any way, but in the passage of a second he and the Winchesters went from naked, covered in sweat and semen, to dressed, dry, and clean.

"Good so far," Dean said to Sam. "Now let's see if he'll follow my orders, too. Cas, fix Sam."

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said. He stood up from the floor and approached Sam with two fingers raised to his forehead. Sam let out an immediate sigh of surprise and relief as Castiel touched his forehead. The pain of his hallucinations was instantly swept away, leaving a cool, soothing sensation running through his body. He could still remember Hell, but it was just a memory. The madness was gone.

"I'm fixed," Sam said, his lips turning up with subtle joy. Dean couldn't help but smile himself, relieved that his brother was safe and healthy. Hope was starting to brim in his eyes, and he looked to Castiel one last time.

"All right. Last order," Dean said after a deep, steadying breath. "Cas, put all the souls back into Purgatory."

"I cannot do that, Dean," Castiel said, his adoring smile fading for the first time.

"Why not?" Dean asked. He had tensed up when he heard those words, worried that the binding hadn't work, and that Castiel had just been playing along.

"They are no longer souls. The spell has consolidated their power in ways I could not and made them part of me. I could release the power, and destroy myself in the process. Would you like me to do that?" Castiel asked, his voice innocent and helpful.

"No!" Dean and Sam shouted loudly, making Castiel cringed back.

"Damnit," Dean said, throwing Sam a worried and angry look. "Death knew this would happen and he didn't tell us."

"We'll find another way, Dean. We have some time now. We have Cas under control."

"Only for 24 hours," Dean said, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Sex?" Dean had squeaked the day before as Death explained the nature of the binding spell he would provide. Death had moved them to Bobby's house to keep them shielded from Castiel as they conspired against him.

"Yes," Death said in his monotone voice.

"Every day? For how long?" Dean asked.

"How long do you intend to keep Castiel bound?"

"You expect us to rape our friend in order to keep him under control?" Sam asked, turning to anger instead of the shock Dean favored.

"I think a seduction would work better," Death said with the tiniest hint of a smile. "I'm certain he could fend you off rather easily otherwise."

"You think this is funny?" Sam snapped. "This is our friend we're talking about. You have to give us something else."

"Certainly. Would you prefer a binding spell that requires a sacrifice of 28 virgins, or one that calls for the blood of children? Look, boys," Death said, his voice growing serious again. "You have run out of options. It's this, or let the new God run loose."

Dean and Sam shared a look, each of them mirroring loss and helplessness, though neither one of them wanted to admit it first.

"So let's say we even agree to this binding spell," Dean said. "There's one problem; Cas can read our minds. He'll know what we're planning."

A piece of paper appeared in Death's hand. "These sigils will shield your surface thoughts. Think happy, delightful things at him. That will keep him away from your true intentions."

"We can't do that to Cas," Dean growled.

"What other choice do we have?" Sam said. "He's killing people. We have to stop him."

"I can't go through with that," Dean said, turning to his brother. "I can't do that to him."

"Well, then… I'll do it," Sam said hesitantly. "I'll bind him, and then order him to release the souls. Then we can unbind him."

"And if something goes wrong, like it always does? You'd be stuck with Cas sex duty. No. I'll do it."

"Then you're stuck with it. What if… could we both do it?" Sam wondered aloud, and then turned his eyes back to Death, directing the doubtful question toward him.

"Yes," Death said simply, getting bored with their hesitation.

"What, like we Chinese fingercuff Cas?" Dean asked, trying to be as blithe as he could while having a sex talk with one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

"Actually, double anal would be necessary for the initial binding spell," Death said, ignoring the twin looks of discomfort on the Winchesters' faces as he returned Dean's crass talk just as blithely. "The spell allows multiple masters this way, so long as they 'finish' at the same time. Fortunately, the renewal ritual each day will only require one."

Sam and Dean shared looks that were less than excited. They had a spell, and there was some relief that they could share the burden, but it was still a heavy burden, and an incredibly undesirable one, for several reasons.

"So we're doing this?" Dean asked. "We're going to bind Cas, and if we can't get him to release the souls, we'll just keep him?"

"Until we find something else. We just need time Dean, that's all."

The first night with Castiel was awkward, to say the least. That adoring smile stayed plastered on his face all night and not only did the Winchesters think it was a little creepy, it was also incredibly guilt inducing.

Then Bobby came back the following morning and yelled at them soundly, calling them idjits and a few other choice names. He'd looked at Castiel with pity in his eyes, and then yelled at the Winchesters some more, barking orders for them to start researching a way to remove Castiel's power without killing him.

But then Dean had been a smart ass and ordered Castiel to check all the books for them , and when Castiel announced all of the books had no information that they needed, Bobby yelled at Dean some more and exiled him to the junk yard to work.

The day passed slowly with Bobby and Sam rereading the books that Castiel had already checked, and as expected, they found nothing. Castiel stood around silently, smiling at Sam and awaiting orders.

At nightfall, Dean crept back into the house, and under Bobby's glare, helped himself to some dinner and a couple of beers.

"Find anything?" Dean asked, grinning knowingly.

"No," Sam said, clearly tired and weary from reading through books on Bobby's insistence, and also annoyed that Dean had gotten out of it.

"How's Cas?" Dean asked, eyeing the angel who was standing attentively by Sam's side, not doing anything in particular except smiling and waiting.

"Quiet," Sam said. "Doesn't move unless I tell him to. He wouldn't even look at Bobby, but then I told him to be nice, and… he was. He made Bobby crepes."

"That was nice of you Cas… Cas?" Dean looked at Castiel who was staring out the window of Bobby's library. For the first time since they'd bound him the night before, his eyes were not riveted on either of them, and the serene smile was gone from his lips.

"Cas, you OK?" Dean asked, his voice clearly worried.

Castiel turned to the Winchesters slowly, and then stared at them like he didn't know them, blinking slowly with confusion. When Dean said Castiel's name again, he shook his head, and gave a weak smile, though it was not nearly as adoring as before.

"It hasn't been 24 hours yet," Sam said, eyeing Dean as his worry grew.

"Must be some kind of warning, telling us to move our asses," Dean said, and then turned his head toward the stairs. "I'll take the first shift. C'mon Cas."

Castiel turned his head to Dean, and after a moment's pause, and another flickering smile, he followed Dean up the stairs. Dean led them to the bedroom at the back of the house, as far away from the others as he could get, and shut the door behind them, locking it.

"Sit down, Cas. Make yourself comfortable," Dean said, gesturing to the bed.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said, sitting on the bed and staring at Dean while he waited for more orders.

"And, uh, take your clothes, off, OK?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said again as his clothes disappeared. Dean looked away.

"You don't have to say that every time I give you an order," Dean said. He started to undress, tossing his clothes on the floor messily, inside out and clumped together. Castiel nodded and waited, watching Dean as he undressed.

"Lie back," Dean said.

Castiel lay back on the bed, and kept his eyes on Dean, intent and waiting, though the adoring smile was gone, leaving Castiel blank and empty. Dean turned his eyes away, unable to meet Castiel's intense gaze. He ordered Castiel to lie on his stomach.

"Can you… Can you make yourself ready again?" Dean asked. When Castiel nodded, Dean checked, plying his fingers between Castiel's cheeks and finding him wet. When he pushed his fingers in deeper, it felt loose and inviting.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Dean asked, his voice shaky.

"No. I cannot feel pain unless you want me to," Castiel said, his voice deadpan and emotionless.

"I don't," Dean said quickly. "I don't want it to hurt. I want you to like it, OK?"

"I will," Castiel said, nodding. His smile returned for a moment, but then faded again.

Dean sighed, trying to find inner strength for what he was about to do. Last night had been somehow easier. They had lied to Castiel, and tricked him, but he had wanted it. He had wanted them. Dean was sure of that. But tonight, even if Castiel said yes, and bucked and moaned, and said he liked it, it wasn't true.

The thought itself was not arousing, and Dean stroked his limp cock a few times, trying to dredge up some interest. He thought of the night before, when Castiel had been eager, and full of genuine noises. He recalled the surprised, wondering look that had widened Castiel's eyes as Dean entered him alongside Sam. He let out a shaky moan at that, savoring the image that he knew he wouldn't see again.

Only half-hard, Dean pushed himself into Castiel, groaning at the tight, wet, heat of him. Castiel let out his own quiet, breathy moan, and it caught in Dean's ears, making his blood pump a little faster.

"You can make noise. Let me know how it feels," Dean whispered into Castiel's ear, and then he closed his eyes, so he couldn't see. He focused on hearing Castiel, and the feeling of him wrapped around his cock as he rutted jerkily into him.

Castiel obeyed, though Dean pretended it wasn't because it was an order, and let out all the gasps, moans, and whimpers that he'd let out the night before, when it had been Sam and Dean binding him. The noises were sinful and encouraging, and if Dean tried really hard, he could put himself somewhere else, and imagine he had a willing partner in his bed. He imagined that Castiel clenched around him tightly out of desire. He imagined that those whimpers escaping Castiel's lips were proof of Dean's prowess as a good lover. He imagined Castiel on his back with his arms open and welcoming, and the angel's pale, chapped lips locked eagerly with his own.

Dean cried out when he came, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Pleasure washed over his physical body, while guilt and shame wracked his soul. As he pulled away, disconnecting from Castiel, he saw the collar around his throat flare up brightly, and then fade again. When Castiel turned his head to look up at Dean, his perfect, serene smile was back in place. Dean couldn't look away fast enough.

The next morning, Bobby asked them to leave.

"I know it may be the only thing we got right now, but that don't mean I have to like it. And I sure as hell don't want to see it either. So until you boys sort something else out, you ain't doing it here."

Dean wanted to criticize Bobby for kicking them out, but in the pit of his stomach, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't do the same if he was in Bobby's place. It was hard to defend himself, and his actions, when he didn't really agree with what he was doing either.

Sam tried to be optimistic. Bobby didn't have any information, so they would go and look for something else to help Castiel. And on the way, they could pick up hunts and save some lives.

"It'll be like a quest," Sam said, trying to be as cheerful as possible and hoping it'd be contagious. "We'll check out libraries, talk to other hunters. It'll be a good distraction."

Dean nodded, though he wasn't as hopeful. He didn't think anything could distract them from their task with Castiel. But it would keep them busy, and there might be a chance of them finding that 'other way' that they needed to save Castiel. So they packed up, took Castiel to the car, and drove off.

Their first night on the road was also Sam's first night with Castiel. They rented one motel room, but Dean decided to make himself scarce. He hid in the Impala, tucked behind the steering wheel with a flask brimming with cheap whiskey to keep him company.

After an hour, the flask was empty, and Dean was wondering if it was safe to return to the room. Then, Castiel appeared in the seat beside him, his fixed smile firmly in place.

"Cas? What are you doing here?" Dean asked once he got over the initial shock that always followed Castiel's unexpected appearances.

"Sam told me to go to you."

"Did you guys… finish?" Dean asked, looking to the motel door with some worry.

"Yes. We had sex. He told me to leave."

"Is there something wrong?" Dean asked, his worry only growing.

"He was emotionally distraught," Castiel said, the words robotic and emotionless.

Dean cursed, but he did not move from the car. He was grateful now that he had not allowed Sam to take on the burden of Castiel's binding alone. He waited in the car for another hour before he returned to the motel. He wanted to give Sam time to calm down, to think to himself, to decide if he wanted to 'talk' about it afterwards, or just leave it alone.

When Dean entered the motel room, he jangled the keys loudly in the lock, and took his time opening the door. Sam made no protest about his intended entry, so Dean went in. The first thing he noticed was that all the windows were open, even though it was getting cold out. Dean closed all of them. The room had aired out enough.

Sam was lying face down on the bed. He wasn't moving, but he wasn't asleep either. His hair was damp from a shower, and he had changed into his sleepwear. Aside from the obvious tension hanging in the air, not blown away by the open windows, the scene would have been normal after a long day of driving.

"I can get another room," Dean offered, his voice soft.

"No," Sam murmured into his pillow after a long moment of silence. After another lengthy pause, he turned his head so that he was looking at Dean.

"I don't know how long I can do this," Sam said, his voice a low whisper, a barely heard confession.

"Maybe it'll get easier," Dean said, though he didn't believe it himself. Sam clearly didn't either as he let out a short, bitter laugh.

"I could barely get it up," Sam said, not quite looking at Dean when he said it, as though he should be ashamed from his lack in prowess when it came to binding sex.

"Me neither," Dean confessed as well, feeling safe saying it after Sam did.

"Where's Cas?" Sam suddenly asked, lifting his head to look around the room.

"In the car," Dean said. He thought for a moment. "He'd probably be OK out there for the night..." Dean said, his words drifting off at the end as soon as he said them. Sam seemed to consider the idea for a moment, but then shook his head.

"It's not his fault. We can't be cruel to him."

"I'll go get him," Dean said, heading for the door.

"Wait," Sam said, hesitantly. "You don't have to get him right away."

Soon the Winchesters found a hunt, but it was a two day drive from where they were, with nothing even remotely suspicious or supernatural along the way. That meant two more days without anything to distract them from their duty with Castiel.

The first night went all right. Dean did his duty, with Castiel on his stomach again, and Dean rutting into him reluctantly with his eyes shut tight imagining something else happening in his bed. When he finished, Castiel's collar gave a low glow, and he turned his beaming, happy smile toward Dean.

The second night was Sam's turn again, but when Dean got up to leave the two of them alone, Sam grabbed his sleeve.

"Stay," Sam had said, his voice pleading, and his eyes openly begging. Dean had swallowed hard, suddenly anxious and nervous, but he nodded and sat down in one of the motel chairs.

Dean wasn't sure where to look as Sam ordered Castiel to undress and then lie down on the bed, but found his eyes drawn to the two nonetheless. He'd walked in on Sam a few times, it was inevitable the way they lived in each others' pockets, but he'd never sat and watched him have sex with another person.

Sam took his shirt off, but left his pants on when he got onto the bed with Castiel, kneeling between his legs. Dean wondered if Sam did that for the sake of modesty since he had an audience, or if he normally kept his pants on with a lover. Under other circumstances, he might have teased Sam about it.

"Make yourself ready," Sam said quietly in Castiel's ear, just loud enough for Dean to hear as well. Presumably, it was followed, as Sam's hand went down between Castiel's legs, and Castiel let out a soft gasp.

Sam fumbled around for several minutes, his hands searching. Dean wondered what he was doing for a few moments, but then understood the issue when Sam shifted slightly to the side, revealing that he was completely soft.

Dean watched Sam for awhile longer, recognizing the tension in his brother's shoulders, the uncertainty of his movements. It was either performance anxiety weighing him down, or else the guilt of what he was doing with Castiel. Perhaps both. Time was ticking away, and he could see that blank look coming up in Castiel's eyes, the only warning they had that the binding was wearing thin. Dean had to do something.

"Cas," Dean said suddenly. Sam's head whipped up immediately at the interruption. Castiel looked at him a little slower, and flashed a faint smile. "Kiss Sam," Dean said once he had Castiel's full attention.

Castiel nodded immediately, and even as Sam was spluttering, trying to work out the words of a protest, Castiel lifted his head and planted his lips firmly on Sam's, silencing the younger Winchester completely.

"Good, Cas. Nice and deep. Use your tongue. Make sure Sam likes it," Dean continued, coaching Castiel through the kiss with his brother.

"Stop!" Sam cried out, breaking loose for a gasp of air, and Castiel stopped, as ordered. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"Taking the pressure off, Sam. Just go with it, OK?" Dean said. His voice was low, his eyes beseeching. He just needed Sam to go along with it. "It'll be easier this way."

Sam wanted to protest. He wanted to argue fine lines that they shouldn't cross with Castiel, how every little action made a difference. But he stayed silent. The only thing they could possibly do was 'less wrong.' They had no 'good' option in this situation, no matter how careful they were. Anything they did was wrong. Perhaps it didn't matter.

"Kiss him, Cas," Dean ordered again, once Sam gave a small, silent nod. "Gently this time. Nice and slow."

Castiel obeyed, kissing Sam slowly and deeply, like he was savoring it. At this gentle invasion, Sam gave in, feeding into the kiss as much as he got. Unexpected by both Winchesters, a low, heady moan worked up from Castiel's throat as Sam kissed him back.

Dean watched with a mixture of pride and shame as Sam started getting hard, his cock rising up from his open fly and bobbing between Castiel's spread legs.

"Keep kissing, Cas, but touch Sam's cock. Stroke him until he's really hard," Dean ordered.

Sam gasped into Castiel's mouth as the angel reached between their bodies and grabbed Sam, stroking him like Dean had ordered. Sam surged forward into Castiel's hand, growing thicker and longer with each stroke. He pumped his hips back and forth against Castiel's hand, and he moaned louder into Castiel's mouth, like a genuine lover.

Dean let out a groan of his own, echoing Castiel as he watched Sam's hips snap forward, hard and forceful, into Castiel's body. He watched, avidly and guiltily, as his brother pumped his hips between Castiel's thighs. He kissed Castiel without encouragement, and Castiel kissed back, mirroring and responding to Sam naturally, grinding against him and moaning into his mouth.

Despite the shaky start, Sam finished quickly. His hips jerked disjointedly, and he let out a rumbling growl as he came. A few more jerks, and Castiel spilled between them, a low pitched whine trembling up from his throat at the same time that the collar glowed again. Castiel smiled up at Sam, but Sam turned his face away. He slumped on top of him, breathing heavily as he came down from his high. His eyes immediately lit on Dean, who was still sitting in his chair next to the bed, watching his brother.

"Thank you," Sam said, not breaking eye contact with Dean.

"Any time," Dean said, plastering on a confident smirk. He stood up, and then very obviously shifted the front of his pants, though he had the decency to look a bit sheepish. "Mind if I get the shower before you?"

"Don't," Sam said, grabbing Dean's wrist, and holding him in place. From his position on the bed, for once, he was looking up at Dean through his bangs. They shared a look for a long, uncertain moment, and then Dean nodded. Sam gave a small smile, the charming dimpled one that he didn't know made girls swoon, and then his hands were on Dean's belt, taking it off with nimble, quick fingers.

Dean groaned as soon as Sam touched his cock, having tugged away Dean's boxers and wrapped his lips around it almost immediately. He remembered when they were younger, lonely and curious while their father was away, and how they had innocently explored this part of their bodies, until they were old enough to know better. Dean had discovered girls, and those hushed and whispered nights had become yet another thing they didn't talk about.

Sam slurped noisily around Dean's cock, his lack of practice making him sloppy. Dean didn't mind though and groaned at the sight of Sam's lips stretched around his thickness, spit dribbling down his chin as he tried to take all of Dean in without choking. He tried valiantly, but was unsuccessful. He had to satisfy himself with working on the length that could fit in his mouth, and fisting the base of Dean's cock where he couldn't reach.

Gently, almost reluctantly, Dean slid his hand into Sam's hair, carding his fingers through it in a way he hadn't since they were too young to know the boundaries between blood. When Sam looked up at him, his eyes wide and encouraging, Dean threaded his fingers into those soft locks, and gave a light tug. Sam's eyes rolled back, and he let out a moan. Encouraged, Dean tugged a little more, guiding Sam's mouth over his cock at the pace he wanted.

Sam took it all eagerly, closing his eyes and letting Dean use his mouth how he wanted to get off. He kept one steadying hand on Dean's hip, just to make sure his brother didn't push too far, and used the other to fondle Dean, letting his fingers brush up and down Dean's chest, bunching up his shirt to get it out of the way and feel skin on skin.

When Dean came, he started to pull back, reaching for a tissue, but Sam clamped his hands tightly on Dean's hips and held him in place. He swallowed hungrily around Dean as his brother came, the thick spurts of come sliding down his throat. He held Dean in his mouth until his cock went soft, and Sam tongued the slit for every last drop. Dean was twitching from the overstimulation, and finally pushed Sam away, panting and sweating from his intense orgasm.

As the Winchesters caught their breath, it was then that they finally remembered that they had an audience. They both turned to Castiel who was watching them intently, staring with his wide, adoring eyes.

"You are beautiful," Castiel said in a light whisper, the adoration in his eyes, if possible, growing even deeper.

The Winchesters stared back at Castiel, and then shared a glance with each other. But neither was sure what to make of the compliment, unasked for and never ordered. Castiel rarely spoke unless spoken too, and his comment was odder than anything else he'd said before.

"Sorry about that, Cas," Dean said, a little awkwardly. "Kind of forgot you were there. Would you mind cleaning us all up for bed?"

Once Castiel and the Winchesters were cleaned up, the Winchesters got ready for bed while Castiel sat on the couch to wait until morning. For a moment, Dean lingered at the foot of Sam's bed, but then shook his head and retreated to his own, curling deep under the covers and facing away from Sam.

The Winchesters arrived just on the outskirts of Charleston, West Virginia in the early afternoon. They found a cheap motel to set up camp, told Castiel to sit tight, and then got to work, impersonating federal agents to get confidential information.

A new apartment complex had just gone up, swanky and high-end, but this wasn't enough to keep the new residents alive. There'd already been three deaths, inside locked apartments, leaving the bodies bloody and violently assaulted.

"It can't be a haunting," Dean said as they returned to the motel. "The building is brand new! No one's died a violent death there, except the people currently dying violent deaths."

"What about a cursed object? A lot of new people moving in. Anything could be in that place," Sam suggested as he loosened his tie and slipped out of his suit jacket.

"That'd be just our luck. Cursed objects are bad enough, but having to locate them is practically impossible if you don't know what you're looking for."

Sam sighed, a wordless agreement. They'd asked all the victims' friends and families, and looked up any background information about them, but couldn't find any pattern besides that they all lived in the same building. Obviously, something was inside killing them, they just didn't know what.

"All right," Dean said. "We'll do observation tonight. Maybe we can catch whatever it is in the act. If not, we get up early tomorrow and interview everyone in the building. Somebody must know something."

"Wait," Sam said, looking thoughtfully at Castiel. Dean looked at Sam questioningly, and then he looked at Castiel as well. But he wasn't making the connection.

"Cas," Sam said slowly, doubt in his voice. "Can you find cursed objects?"

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said cheerfully.

"Jesus, why didn't I think of that?" Dean asked.

"Because you're the stupid brother," Sam said, smiling. "OK, Cas. I need you to find the cursed object in the Mountain View apartment complex."

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said again, and then he disappeared. Exactly five seconds later, he was back, but empty handed. "There was no cursed object in the apartment building."

"No cursed-? But then what's killing people?" Sam asked.

"A ghost," Castiel said.

"What ghost?" Dean asked. "The building's brand new. The land before was clean. There weren't even any building accidents when it went up. Where did this ghost come from?"

"The apartment was built with the bones of another," Castiel said.

"Gross," Dean said, making a face. "Who makes buildings out of bones?"

"No, wait," Sam said, getting up suddenly to pull out his laptop and type frantically. After a few minutes, a victorious smile spread across his lips. "Anchorage Building Company. They're big on green technology and recycling. A lot of the materials they use on their new buildings are things they rescue from old, abandoned buildings, wooden beams and flooring, fixtures, tiles… whatever they can salvage."

"So maybe they pulled up some floorboards from some other place that was haunted, and the spook followed it here? That is some determined haunting. Any way of finding out where they got their materials?"

"Not really, except…" Sam paused, tapped a little more, and then turned the screen to Dean.

On the front page of the building website, was a black and white picture of an old mansion. Beside it was a colored, modern picture of the home in complete disrepair. Bold, red letters above the pictures proudly said "Claimed and Saved!"

The caption underneath called it the Barrow House, abandoned for years, and said to be haunted. For decades it had been an eyesore to the local community, until it was finally torn down and turned into a park. Hundreds of pounds of materials were salvaged, treated, and reused by Anchorage Building.

"Looks like we need to brush up on our local legends," Dean said, a smile on his face as the case got itself a solid lead. "I'll head to the apartments to keep an eye out, you check out the library. As soon as you know who our ghost is, and where it's buried, I'll meet you there."

"What about Cas? It's almost time."

Dean looked at his watch, and then at Castiel, who was still smiling at them. Dean knew that smile wouldn't last much longer, and certainly not long enough for them to finish the job tonight.

"We'll take him with us. You drive."

"I drive-? No way, Dean. We'll get arrested."

"You want to wait around until I finish? Someone else could die tonight unless we hurry."

"I don't like this Dean," Sam said, scowling at his brother through the reflection in the rearview mirror.

"Eyes on the road, Sammy. Don't give the cops any reason to pull us over."

Dean was in the back seat with Castiel, each of them in mild states of undress. Their pants were pushed down just enough to get at what they needed, but not so much that it would take long to pull them up again, just in case.

The back of the Impala was not very roomy, but Dean had some good experience in its back seat, and knew how to angle all their long legs and arms so that they would fit, somewhat comfortably, and be able to move around.

For the first time, Dean had Castiel on his back, with his knees pushed up against his chest while Dean pumped into him quickly. It was the only way they could get it to work in the car, and Dean found he didn't mind so much anymore, with Sam so close by. Having Sam just inches away, darting glances at him in the mirror and trying desperately not to get distracted from driving, made Dean's blood pump faster.

When they finished, and Castiel's collar gave its customary glow, they only had a minute to spare to get their clothes back together before Sam was pulling up to the apartment building. Dean got out, got his weapons and headed inside. He left the newly adoring Castiel with Sam to do research and find the bones they needed to burn.

After the complication with the origin of the building materials was sorted out, the hunt in West Virginia turned out to be a fairly average salt and burn. The last reigning matriarch of the Barrow family had hung herself in the rafters when the family lost its money and couldn't afford the home anymore. She swore the house would always be a Barrow home, and killed anyone who wasn't Barrow blood living in the house. When the house was demolished, she continued unabated. Sam found her grave, burned her bones, and called it a night.

With a few more weeks of travel on the road, Dean made a tradition of watching Sam with Castiel while the two had sex, participating occasionally, but mostly just giving Sam that extra push to get him through the ritual with Castiel.

One night, Dean pulled his chair up close to the bed, resting his feet against it while Sam fumbled around on the bed. Castiel was naked, and so was Sam, finally over whatever shyness he'd suffered from before. But he was still having trouble getting it up as Castiel beamed at him happily.

"What if Cas sucks you off a bit?" Dean asked, trying not to sound too lascivious as he imagined his brother's dick in another man's mouth.

"No, Dean," Sam said, though he had to repress a shudder at the thought of it. But they'd drawn a firm line. Sex with Castiel was just for the binding, not to get their rocks off. They couldn't cross that line.

"Just until you're hard, Sammy," Dean said, reasonably. "We can't bind him if you can't get hard."

"Just give me another minute," Sam growled, stroking himself a little too roughly in his attempt to get the desired result.

"Don't have a minute," Dean said, looking at Castiel, who's eyes were starting to glaze. "What if I suck him too? Would that make it OK?"

"Dean," Sam said, trying to sound threatening, but his voice had gone shaky at the sound of Dean's offer. The image immediately popped up in his head and he couldn't hold back a full body shudder.

"And then when you're hard, I'll watch you fuck Cas. How's that sound, Sammy?"

Sam let out a deep moan, and rather than tell Dean to shut up, he surged forward and covered his brother's mouth with his own, silencing him with tongue and teeth and lips. Dean let the kiss linger, smiling into it at his victory, but then slowly pulling away and turning to Castiel.

"Cas. Want you to suck Sam off," Dean said, a little breathless. "Do what I do, OK?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said, and he lowered his head down to Sam's lap. Sam waited with a held breath, and then let it out explosively as Castiel took him into his mouth. He savored that for a moment, feeling his cock harden quickly from the sensation, but then moved his eyes to Dean as his brother moved into position, lounging over Castiel's bare legs and then taking Castiel into his mouth.

Castiel let out a low moan when Dean sucked him in, his eyes darting to the man between his legs for a brief moment before he was attentive to Sam once again. Sam watched them, and was struck by how they moved together, simultaneously. He groaned at the thought that Castiel was doing exactly what Dean was doing, every motion with his tongue, every bob of his head, mirroring what Dean was doing to his cock. He knew he should pull out, since he was hard, and finish the ritual, but he couldn't stop .

Sam bucked up into Castiel's mouth, sensation surging through him, making his cock leak pre-come copiously. Castiel sucked it up eagerly, making slurping sounds that echoed Dean's own. And then he imitated more. Sam slid his fingers into Castiel's hair, gripping it lightly, easing him back and forth, and he watched as Castiel moved his hands to Dean's hair. Dean looked up, surprised by the gesture, but smiled, and allowed Castiel to guide him.

When Sam came, he grabbed Castiel's head with both hands and pulled him close, filling his mouth with come. He could feel Castiel swallowing around him, his mouth tight on Sam's cock. He opened his eyes lazily to see Castiel mirroring him again, grabbing Dean's hair and pushing up against his mouth. Dean was swallowing as fast as he could, but some of the come was spilling past his lips and dripping down his chin. When he finally pulled away, breathless, his soft lips swollen and red, Sam gave a final groan.

"Shit Sam," Dean said, a little breathless as he wiped his mouth and scowled half-heartedly at his brother. "You weren't supposed to finish."

"Sorry," Sam said bashfully. "I didn't mean to. It was just so—Hey… what's going on?"

Both Winchesters watched with amazement as Castiel's collar started to glow, like it did after they had sex. Once it faded, Castiel's eyes lit up again, bright and happy, watching the brothers attentively and smiling.

"Cas, is your binding renewed?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said with a sweet smile. "Any sex act involving your or Dean's ejaculate will be sufficient to reform our bond."

Sam and Dean shared a look of pain and guilt at this confession, reminding them how much Castiel was in their thrall and subject to whatever they asked him to do. Without words, they tugged Castiel closer, wrapping him in a three-way hug between them. Castiel looked pleased, but also surprised by the unexpected comfort.

"We're sorry Cas," Dean said, speaking against Castiel's hair. "We'll let you go as soon as we can."

Sam nodded with agreement, murmuring similar words to Castiel. Castiel nodded as well, slower, slighter, and his smile faltered for a moment, tilting down just a little bit at the corners.

In Vermont, there were witches. Dean hated witches, and as usual, was being very vocal about his dislike of them, complaining about their spell casting and their vengeful, petty motivation for killing people.

"I could smite them," Castiel suddenly said, interrupting Dean's rant.

Both Winchesters looked at Castiel, surprised that he had suddenly spoken up without being asked and also by what he was offering. They looked at each other.

"We… we can't do that, can we?" Sam asked, sounding doubtful for some reason.

"That would be cheating, wouldn't it? I mean, a little help, like in West Virginia is OK. But not the whole job," Dean said, also looking doubtful and uncomfortable. "Besides, when are our lives ever that easy? Something will go wrong." Dean gestured emphatically at Castiel, as though his hands could encompass the entirety of the situation.

"Yeah, you're right," Sam said with a frustrated sigh. He gave Castiel a small smile. "Thanks Cas. But we'll take care of it ourselves, all right?"

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said, still smiling, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Soon, Dean and Sam left the motel to go hunt down the witches, smash up their altars, and maybe cut off their heads if they could manage it. With any luck, they'd be done before dinner, get a good night's rest, and then hit the road for the next job.

But like Dean said, their life was never that easy.

"I told you to stay back," Dean growled at his brother.

"You were screaming. What was I supposed to do?"

"Not also get captured."

Sam and Dean were magically bound to their chairs, so that they couldn't move an inch, or even hope to escape. And even if they had been bound with simple ropes, they were surrounded by five witches who might have noticed them trying to cut their way free.

"So what're you ugly hags going to do with us?" Dean asked, his voice sporting its usual bravado in the face of danger.

"There are many uses for a man," one of the witches said, sidling up to Dean and stroking his chin. Dean turned his face away, repulsed.

"For instance, a man's eyeballs are wonderful for revenge spells," another witch said.

"And his fingers are necessary for summoning," said a third.

"The small intestine is excellent for scrying," said a fourth.

All five of them laughed together as Sam and Dean squirmed from the sound of their gory list, flinching away as the witches poked and prodded at each named body part. Then the leader of the coven pulled out a beautiful, ornate silver knife. Both brothers went tense and alert, frantically thinking of any means of distraction and escape.

The coven leader raised her knife up high, just over Sam's head, when suddenly, the room went white with blinding light. The witches first covered their eyes, but then began to scream. The light grew brighter, and hotter, and soon, the witches had all caught fire, burning up quickly and crumbling into piles of ash.

The white light faded quickly, and from the source stood Castiel, frowning at the witches until he turned to look at Sam and Dean. Then he gave a bright smile.

"Cas! Am glad to see you!" Dean said, standing up once he was freed from the witches' spell.

"Good thing you knew we were in trouble," Sam said, also standing up to stretch.

"I didn't. But it is almost 9 pm," Castiel said.

"So?" Sam said.

"Every night, at 9 pm, we have sex. I did not want you to be late."

"You didn't come here because we were in danger, you came because… you wanted to have sex?" Dean asked cautiously, because there was no way that could be right. But, Castiel nodded, smiling and looking very pleased with himself.

The Winchesters shared a nervous look, but they didn't say anything. They left the building, stepping carefully around the charred remains of the five witches, and took Castiel back to their motel room to have sex and rebind him. Afterwards, they asked Castiel to go sit in the car so that they could talk together.

"That was weird, right? He shouldn't be looking forward to it, should he?" Sam asked. Not only had Castiel been expecting them to return on time for their nightly rebinding, during the sex act itself, he had been more enthusiastic than usual. Usually he left the pleasuring to Dean and Sam, mimicking their motions only when instructed. But that night he had reached out on his own to touch the brothers and elicit noises from them in return.

"Isn't that better though? That he likes it?" Dean asked, looking as bewildered as Sam.

"He doesn't really like it though. It's the mind control. We could do anything to him and the spell would make him like it."

"We're not doing anything to him, just what's necessary. Whether he likes it or just thinks he likes it, it's still a good thing."

"We can't take advantage-"

"We're not taking advantage of him, Sam. We have to do what we have to do, and if that means Cas happens to like it at the same time, then I'm not hurting over it."

"You're glad he likes it," Sam said, all of a sudden curious. "You like that he's acting like a lover."

"Yeah, well, it makes it easier," Dean said, averting his eyes. "Makes it easier to fool yourself when he's not just lying there and taking it."

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, taking Dean's face gently into his hands and turning it, so they were eye-to-eye. "I'm not accusing you of anything. Just humor me when I worry too much, OK?"

"Yeah, I will," Dean said, smiling. He moved his hands up, cupping them over his brother's who still held his face in his hands. He leaned in and gave Sam a quick kiss on the lips, a shy apology, which quickly turned into another kiss, and another. The two brothers slowly slid down onto the bed, kissing and caressing slowly, seeking comfort in each others' arms.

From outside the window, Castiel peeked through the slightly parted curtains, and watched as Sam and Dean made love. His lips formed a clear, straight line.

Weeks passed, and a routine had begun. In any state that they could manage it without too many dirty looks, they got a room with one bed. Either Sam or Dean would take on the role of having sex with Castiel, to rebind him, and then they would ask Castiel to leave the room, so that they could have some time alone without the ever present stare of their prisoner. They often had sex, but just as often did not, and busied themselves with mundane hunter tasks like packing salt rounds and sharpening their knives.

News from Nevada broke the routine as one of Bobby's contacts got in touch with them. A mystic who dabbled in several of the supernatural arts thought he might be able to help them. So they headed west, hope and doubt sharing equal space in both their hearts.

On the way there, Castiel started acting weird, even more so than usual.

"Can Dean join us?" Castiel asked one night when Sam was getting ready to rebind him for the night. Dean was there, sitting in his chair next to the bed so that he could watch and then have Sam all to himself later.

"I want to do it like we did the first time. With the both of you," Castiel went on when both brothers gave him blank, confused stares.

"You want Dean in bed with us?" Sam asked, hoping that this was not what Castiel meant.

"Yes. I want you both inside me. It felt very nice the last time. Why haven't we done it since then?" Castiel asked, and he leveled the Winchesters with his most adoring smile, it almost looked innocent despite his request.

"No, Cas," Dean said, calm and soothing. "You don't have to ask for that sort of thing, OK? We'll just do it the normal way, and you don't have to worry about anything."

"Dean, would you like me to suck your cock?" Castiel asked. It was the middle of the afternoon, hours before Castiel's binding needed to be renewed, and he was already kneeling at Dean's feet where he sat on the foot of the bed cleaning his gun. "I have been watching Sam and I think I will be very good at it now."

"No!" Dean cried out. He stood up quickly. "Don't ask that, OK? You don't have to do those things!"

"Sam, perhaps you would like to try having sex with me riding on top. You will not need to exert yourself so much, and I think you would appreciate the view."

Sam stuttered at the offer Castiel made, and when he finally found the right words, very gently eased Castiel onto his back, assuring him that his offer wasn't necessary.

"Maybe it's some kind of mystical Stockholm syndrome," Sam offered, eyeing his brother.

Dean was pacing around their room. He'd just finished with Castiel and sent the angel away once his collar stopped glowing. He was still naked, and the smell of sex lingered on him, which was slightly distracting for Sam.

"How do we make him not Stockholm-y? It's freaking me out," Dean grumbled.

"I thought you wanted him to enjoy it?" Sam asked. Dean's pacing finally hit Sam's last nerve and he grabbed his brother and pulled him down onto the bed. Dean resisted for a moment, but then collapsed against Sam, fitting himself against his brother easily to find the most comfortable spot.

"Yeah, but this is getting weird. He just asked me if I wanted to come on his face, like this would be a normal thing to ask someone. Why would he do that?"

"He likes it? He thinks it's what we want? He thinks we're lovers? I don't know, Dean. But whatever it is, we can order him to stop offering," Sam said.

"Hope this friend can help us set Cas free."

Castiel was not smiling. He usually didn't around strangers, unless Dean or Sam ordered him to be friendly, like they had with Bobby. But they hadn't ordered him to be friendly with Francis, the mystic they met in Nevada. As Francis walked around Castiel in a tight circle, studying him, no one was paying attention to the small, fixed frown that creased Castiel's lips.

"An angel, filled with monster souls, bound with ancient life energies. Goodness, you boys brought me a very interesting case," Francis said. He had an easy, casual air about him, and a light smile played on his lips. It got on Dean's nerves since he and Sam were wound so tight, grave and worried.

"Can you fix him or not?" Dean asked.

"Don't know," Francis said with a nonchalant shrug. Dean bristled, looking like he was about to hit the hippy mystic in the mouth. "I'll need more time to study him. Look at his energy. It might take a few hours. You two can come back later if you want."

Francis gestured to the door of his apartment, implying that the Winchesters should leave him to do his work. Dean looked like he didn't want to, but with orders from Sam for Castiel to behave and do whatever Francis told him to do, he dragged Dean out the door so they could eat and rest.

Dean was glaring at his cheeseburger. Sam was just glad he was doing it silently after ranting for the entire car ride about the 'filthy, hippy, mystic' that they'd left Castiel with. Sam wasn't sure if the vitriol was just about the guy being slightly less than mainstream, or if it was that they'd had to trust him with Castiel.

"Let's say this thing for Castiel works out," Sam started.

"It won't," Dean said sharply as he took a harsh bite out of his burger.

"Pretend with me for a moment. Indulge a fantasy," Sam urged.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "I am suspending my disbelief that doctor patchouli oil can fix Cas."

"Good. So Cas is fixed. Back to an angel or something, no collar…" Sam paused, hesitating as he struggled to find the right words. "So then what?"

"We go back to our regularly scheduled lives?" Dean asked, unsure why Sam was being so tentative and asking him this.

"I mean us," Sam said, glaring at Dean for being dense. "What is going to happen with us?"

"Oh," Dean said, pausing with the burger halfway to his mouth. He set it down slowly, and couldn't quite look Sam in the eye as he thought about how to respond to the question. "Well, I guess, if you want… we could just go back to the way things were before…" Dean said tentatively, looking up finally to see if this was the correct answer.

Apparently it was not, as Sam was glaring at him even worse than before.

"Or not," Dean gulped, slumping in his seat under Sam's hard glare.

"How can you expect me to go back to the way things were?" Sam said, looking hurt, and that perked Dean up in his seat, all his instincts firing to keep Sam from being hurt.

"I don't!" Dean assured quickly, reaching across the table to grab Sam's hand. "I just wasn't sure what you wanted."

"I want you," Sam said, squeezing Dean's hand in his. "Ever since we were little. You were just too stupid to notice."

"OK. Fine," Dean said, giving a nervous smile and licking his lips. "Then, if Cas gets sorted out… it'll be me and you, OK?"

Sam smiled and let Dean finish his cheeseburger, but only with one hand, because he wasn't about to let his brother go.

A few hours later, fed and refreshed, the Winchesters returned eager and hopeful to Francis' home to see the results of his investigation.

"Sorry, boys. Nothing I can do," Francis said, though he didn't seem that sorry about it.

Castiel had been sitting on a couch looking bored until the moment the Winchesters walked in. Then, his face lit up, chipper and cheerful as ever at the sight of his masters. He got up immediately, going to their sides and invading their personal space.

"What do you mean nothing you can do?" Dean shouted. "We drove three days to get out here, and you got nothing?"

"Nothing helpful," Francis said, maintaining his cool and calm demeanor. "I could take the power out, but, your friend dies in the process. It's locked up good and tight in there, and I can't do anything about it."

"What about the binding spell?" Sam asked. He put a reassuring hand on Dean's arm, partly to hold him back in case he felt like punching the spacey mystic. "We were hoping you knew a different kind of binding spell. You know, something that doesn't have the same kind of, uh, requirements?" Sam asked, looking hopeful.

"Well, if you were women, you could use menstrual blood," Francis said with a shrug after he thought seriously for several moments.

"That's great. Totally awesome," Dean growled. "We're right back where we started. C'mon, Cas. Let's get out of here."

Castiel followed as Dean stormed out of the house, smiling even brighter than usual and with extra bounce in his step. Sam lingered for a moment more to get promises from Francis to call them if he thought of anything that might help.

"Now what?" Dean asked once Sam was in the passenger seat next to him. Castiel sat in the back. Still smiling.

"Keep on, I guess," Sam said. He dared a glance through the rearview mirror and turned away quickly when he caught Castiel's bright, eager eyes. They only had a few hours left before they would need to rebind Castiel yet again.

When they got back to the motel, Castiel got on the bed, and undressed without being told, waiting expectantly for one of the brothers to tend to him. Dean looked at him and swallowed hard, wallowing in their failure to release their friend, and the dashed hope that Sam had revved up in him at the diner.

"I can't do it tonight, Sam," Dean said, turning away from Castiel. He turned pleading eyes up to his taller brother. "Can you take him?"

"No," Sam said firmly. "You can do this, Dean. Just like all the nights before."

"I'm not in the mood," Dean growled. "I have a hard enough time getting it up without a reminder that we're failing him. Every day."

"Then I'll get you in the mood," Sam said. Before Dean could start to argue or resist, Sam leaned in for a forceful kiss, tugging Dean in close so he couldn't escape. Petulantly, Dean bit Sam's lip, but Sam was persistent and plied Dean's mouth open with his tongue, tasting Dean until his brother started making soft sounds in the back of his throat. He kept kissing Dean as he slowly moved them backwards, step by step, until they were next to the bed. A gentle push put Dean on his back, his lips swollen and red as he looked up at Sam.

Sam knelt down over Dean, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him some more. Dean leaned up toward the kiss and slowly rolled his hips up against Sam's weight. Sam responded by shifting, lining up their groins so that they could better feel the pressure between them as they kissed and writhed against each other.

Beside them, ignored, but not completely forgotten, Castiel watched with rapt attention. His heart rate picked up, his breathing deepened, and his cock grew between his legs, as attentive as he was to the show. His breath caught in his throat as Sam's hands worked on Dean, and he heard two zippers coming undone. Both Sam and Dean gasped as their cocks were released, hit the cool air of the motel room, and then rubbed together, hot and wet.

Dean let out hot, breathy pants as Sam rubbed up against him, grinding down on him. He grumbled something about Sam being too heavy for him to move, and Sam just chuckled and kissed Dean some more.

"Son of a bitch, Sam," Dean growled, bucking up against Sam when Sam grabbed the base of his cock, holding back his orgasm.

"Save it," Sam said back with a teasing smile, even as he kept rubbing against Dean and stroking himself with his free hand. "I got you good and hard for a reason," he said, glancing over at Castiel. Castiel perked up at the look, and inched closer to the brothers, awaiting his turn.

"And you got good and hard, why?" Dean asked. He reached out and grabbed Sam's cock, making his brother stutter out a groan, and push up into his hand. A few more shaky jerks and strokes from Dean's hand, and Sam went off, spurting into Dean's hand.

"Jerk," Sam said as he slid off of Dean. "Hurry up. You don't have all night."

"Bitch," Dean said back. "All right. C'mere, Cas. Let's not waste Sam's gift, right?"

"Right," Castiel said, moving closer to Dean and smiling brightly, eagerly. He slid right up against Dean, and Dean reached his hand out to Castiel. His hand fell on Castiel's shoulder, and instantly, the collar around his throat lit up, glowing in the same way it usually did when they renewed the binding spell.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion. Dean had a similar look on his face. "What happened? Why did the spell renew?"

"Did it? Cas, is the binding back up?" Dean asked.

"Yes, Dean. Are we going to have sex now?" Castiel said this all in the same, even tone, his face an unmoving, smiling mask.

"No, just wait," Dean said, looking all around with his hunter honed eyes, his mind grinding around what was available, until finally, he looked at his hand. The one he'd touched to Castiel's shoulder.

"Dude, semen," Dean said, showing his hand to Sam, which was still sticky with his semen. Castiel also had some on his shoulder where Dean had touched hm.

"That's it?" Sam asked, his face breaking out into a huge grin as he laughed. "This whole time, and that's all we needed?"

"He did say any sex act," Dean said, starting to laugh himself, somewhat hysterically as relief flooded through him. "This, this is going to make everything so much easier. Isn't this great, Cas?" Dean asked, clapping Castiel on the shoulder again.

"I don't understand," Castiel said. He'd been laughing along with the Winchesters before, shakily and unsure. "What will be great?"

"You don't have to have sex with us anymore, Cas. Isn't that great news?" Dean asked cheerfully.

"But I like having sex with you and Sam," Castiel said, frowning slightly.

"Cas, you don't have to say that. That's the binding spell talking. But don't worry. You don't have to go through that anymore," Dean said, giving Cas a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, it'll be more like old times" Sam said, also smiling reassuringly. "We'll keep looking for a way to let you go, and you can hunt with us. Won't that be great?"

"Yes, Sam," Castiel said, smiling. Though it was not quite the cheerful, obedient smile that he usually wore.

Several days passed after the discovery in Nevada. Driving back East, the Winchesters, with Castiel's help, took out a small pack of skin walkers that had been terrorizing a suburb in Arizona. Sam and Dean did most of the heavy hitting, and then let Castiel heal up their cuts and bruises once they got back to the motel room.

"Why don't you head out for an hour or so Cas?" Sam said, coughing and looking at his brother.

"Can't I stay?" Castiel asked, looking petulant and sad.

"You don't need to, Cas," Sam said as soothingly as he could. "We'll call you when we're done. Go do what you like."

"I like being here, with you and Dean. I like having sex with you. Why won't you have sex with me anymore?" Castiel asked, looking even sadder and more miserable.

Sam rubbed his forehead and looked over to Dean, giving him a lost look, not sure what else to say to Castiel to calm him down and cheer him up. Dean looked just as lost for a moment, but then he got an idea.

"Here's the thing, Cas," Dean said, striding up to Castiel and placing his hands on his shoulders to look him right in the eye. Castiel immediately smiled from the contact. "When you have sex with someone, it should be with someone you love, right? So like me and Sam, we love each other, so we have sex together. Does that make sense?"

"Oh yes, Dean," Castiel said, and his face lit up brightly, a genuine smile of happiness lifting his lips. Sam and Dean both let out sighs of relief, Sam looking a little surprised that Dean had thought of something that would work.

"So since I love you and Sam, we can start having sex again, yes?" Castiel said.

"What?" both brothers asked in unison.

"I love both of you, very much," Castiel said, smiling shyly. "All I've ever wanted was to have your love in return. Nothing else could ever make me happier. You are both everything I have ever wanted."

Castiel smiled at the Winchesters, pleased and content, but the looks they returned were blinding shock and despair. Their relief from before passed quickly, and the distress they felt was clear, permeating the room.

"Don't say that, Cas," Dean said, lowering his eyes. He slumped down into a chair and dropped his head between his knees. "That's not real… it's not…" he trailed off.

"It is real," Castiel insisted. "Haven't I shown you that? I miss you when you are gone. I enjoy it when you rebind me. I've even offered myself when there is no need for it. Why won't you believe me?"

"The collar, Cas-" Sam started, calm and soothing.

"Damn the collar," Castiel snapped, and then he reached up and tore the thin metal collar away from his throat. It burst into a million glowing sparks and then faded away to nothing, as though it had never existed in the first place. "This is not going at all how I planned."

"Plan?" Dean asked, standing up as the collar exploded, standing back from what now appeared to be a completely freed Castiel.

"I broke the binding spell after only a few weeks," Castiel said. His face was serious and drawn, so much like his expression from months ago, before everything that had happened, that both Winchesters felt their hearts aching to see it again. "I've only been pretending to be in your thrall."

"Wait, what? Why?" Sam demanded.

"For love," Castiel said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't I just say that?"

"Why pretend to be under our control though?" Dean asked.

"I knew you would be afraid of me, that you would not trust me. I thought if I was under your power, then it would have been all right. I should have known guilt would be too large of a factor though."

"Gee, you think?" Dean snapped. "Every day, for months, this had been tearing us up! You saw it, but you didn't do anything about it."

"I tried. I kept changing the parameters of the binding so you wouldn't have to do so much. I thought I could offer myself willingly, but that only made it worse. And then you and Sam…" Cas trailed off for a moment. "I hadn't anticipated that at all."

"This whole time, you've just been following us around, for love, or whatever," Dean said, stumbling on the word. "What happened to being the new God? To smiting us for having the balls to take you out?"

"I was corrupted by the power, and the souls were so noisy in my head. But the binding spell helped that. It was humbling to be trapped by two humans, and it silenced the souls. And then I realized, the Winchesters wanted to stop me, and they found a way to do it. The moral compass the two of you possess is impressive. I should have followed it."

"So now what?" Sam asked.

Castiel watched the brothers, saw the tension in their bodies, ready for a fight, even one they could never manage to win. He saw the distrust in their eyes, the worry, and fear, just like when he had first swallowed the souls from Purgatory. It was exactly what he hadn't wanted to see, ever again.

"Now, I should return to Heaven. To put to rights what I left in disarray. I say I have been humbled, but I know actions speak louder than words for you two, so I will act. I hope I give you no further reason to hunt me," Castiel said. Before the Winchesters could say anything else, he disappeared.

Several weeks ago…

Castiel had woken up slowly from the binding spell. Those precious moments before either Winchester had sex with him to put him back in his place were used to their utmost. Even as his body bent easily to each order in those later moments, Castiel's mind worked sluggishly in the background, picking and tugging at the collar around his throat. On some level, he was unaware of what he was doing.

Castiel broke the collar on an unassuming Thursday evening a couple of weeks after the Barrow House ghost. He broke it silently and without fanfare. Sam and Dean had been sitting on a couch in a ratty motel, watching a game on TV. They had about an hour before they would need to bind Castiel again. Or so they thought anyway.

In that first instant of freedom, a hundred different urges flooded through Castiel. To flee, to fight, to give into anger, to beg for forgiveness, but the one that won out, was to wait. He'd been sitting on one of the beds where Sam and Dean had told him to wait a few hours ago. They'd cleaned their guns and sharpened their knives, checked voicemails on their various cell phones, ate dinner, and then stretched out in front of the TV.

Castiel waited.

After an hour, Sam and Dean shared a look, and slowly, Dean rose from the couch. He told Sam to leave the game on, and went over to the bed where Castiel was waiting. Castiel raised his head to look up at Dean, making sure to leave his expression blank, smiling only faintly when needed.

"Clothes off, Cas," Dean said, his voice clear and perfunctory. "On your stomach."

Castiel did as told, like he had so many nights before, but this time, it was not his body following the order automatically. This time, he made the choice to shed his clothes for Dean, to roll over for him, so that Dean wouldn't have to look into his eyes.

Initially, Castiel wasn't sure why he was remaining silent and playing along as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't broken his collar and gained control of all his power again. But then he got the order to make himself ready for Dean, to make himself wet and loose, and he remembered that first night, when they had called him and collared him.

The memory burned with betrayal. He could still feel his own anger bubbling under the surface, trying to break through and lash out. But the anger was not as hot as it had been that night. The voices that had been egging him on, screaming his betrayal were long silent, and the anger turned inward, toward himself.

He thought back on his time before the collar, and wondered how much had been his own pride, and how much had been those gnashing, angry voices inside his head. He wondered if the difference even mattered.

And then he thought about Sam and Dean and the way they had looked at him on that night. He'd seen love in their eyes, and though it was ultimately a ruse, he didn't think Sam and Dean could feign that sort of emotion. Perhaps it wasn't the romantic love he had originally thought it was, but it was something.

Castiel let out a soft grunt as Dean pushed up inside him. A little frown pursed his lips because he could feel that Dean was only half hard, and he frowned further because he remembered that this was usually the case. It wasn't until a few shaky thrusts later that Dean filled out inside him, stretching him further, and pushing in deeper as the physical sensation of fucking took Dean over.

Castiel wished he was on his back, so that he could see Dean's face, to see if that love was still there, or if he had only imagined it. Sam usually had him on his back, but Sam didn't look at him either. He kept his eyes on Dean while he fucked Castiel, hanging off the words Dean used to urge his brother on.

Dean let out a low growl as he came, filling Castiel up, and Castiel had to remember to make his collar glow, so that Dean would not be worried. And he had to smile, using that wide, cheerful grin that came so naturally when he'd been bound.

Dean's hand slid into Castiel's hair, fingering through the strands lightly, stroking and petting him. Dean's breath was hot against his neck, fast and hard, and then slower and deeper as his body relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, like he did every time, quiet enough that Sam wouldn't hear it from a few feet away. He rested for a few more moments, and then pulled away, telling Castiel to clean himself up.

Castiel did as told, cleaning himself, and dressing once more before sitting up on the bed and smiling up at Dean, showing the love and adoration that the spell had demanded of him before. Dean just frowned back at him and returned to the couch with Sam to watch the end of the game.

Castiel sat on the bed thinking to himself, a self-indulgence he hadn't enjoyed in several weeks under the foggy influence of the collar. The most correct thing, he knew, was to tell the Winchesters immediately that he had broken the spell and was free, that they need not torture themselves tending to him anymore. But he also imagined the fear that would well up in their eyes just from looking at him. He knew that he would never be able to convince them that he was no longer a threat. They would flee from him, distrust and fear chasing them as they tried to find another way to stop him.

And then there was the sex, Castiel was ashamed to admit, even in his own mind. That very first time had been amazing, and he wanted that again. His times with Dean had been physically pleasing, though lacking in that intense emotional draw he'd felt the first time. With Sam it was a little better, as Dean often got involved as well, but there was still so much missing from it, so much more that Castiel wanted.

Castiel watched Sam and Dean sitting together on the couch. They had always been close, more so than most brothers. But now, they were even closer, even physically, almost sitting on top of each other as they watched the football game and drank their beers. They touched casually; Sam's hand resting for a moment on Dean's thigh, Dean's arm along the back of the couch, grazing Sam's shoulders.

Castiel could imagine that in that small space between them, tight as it was, he could fit. It was only a matter of time, and opportunity, which he had both of.

Now…

"I am quite positive I told you what I would do if you bound me again," Death said, looking very displeased with both Winchesters as he stood in their motel room with silver strands around his wrists again, and another bag of greasy fried food offered up on the table.

"Castiel escaped," Dean said, doing his best not to be cowed by Death's obvious anger.

"Yes. So?"

"You said that collar would hold him!" Dean snapped.

"I fibbed," Death said, and both brothers froze, stunned by that completely unexpected confession offered up so readily.

"You knew it would break?" Sam asked, incredulous. "Then why?"

"I thought that would be obvious," Death said, though he wasn't surprised when the Winchesters gave him confused looks. "The nature of the binding spell was deliberate, of course. The souls were the biggest issue, but getting them out would be nearly impossible. Even if you could somehow convince Castiel to give them up, it's almost certain some would cling inside, possibly even escape. The only other option was to consolidate them."

Death broke off for a moment to investigate the contents of the greasy bag left on table. Inside he found fried green tomatoes and a large Coke. He took them out and started nibbling on the fried foods he enjoyed so much.

"Cas could have gone crazy after he broke the collar, and then he would have had all that power!" Dean snapped, his anger overcoming his fear again as Death blithely sipped his soda.

"I told you, the spell was deliberate. Why do you think Castiel has followed you around all these years? He pulled Dean out of Hell, rebelled against Heaven for the sake of free will, protected you over and over again against every sort of monster. Did you think it was just his unwavering sense of duty?"

Dean and Sam stared in disbelief at Death for a moment as the meaning of his words sank in. They each shared a confused look with each other, somewhat horrified.

"You… you were playing matchmaker with us?" Sam asked, not quite believing his own words.

"You make it sound so tawdry, as if I care about your love affairs," Death said as he popped a fried green tomato into his mouth. "It was an obvious solution to an annoying problem, so I put it into action."

"And what if it hadn't worked? What if Castiel hadn't fallen in love with us?" Sam asked.

"But he did, so it doesn't matter. Now, if that answers all of your inane questions, I would like to be released."

Sam and Dean looked at each other again. All of their questions had been answered, but it's not as though it was satisfying to learn that they had once again been manipulated by forces beyond their control without their knowledge. But they did have what they wanted to know, so they released Death and he left with his bag of food and another dire warning should they try to bind him again.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dean asked.

"We're naked, how could this be a bad idea?" Sam asked, and then shucked off his underwear and stood naked with his brother. For once, they were not in a dingy little motel room. For this particular plan, they'd sprung for a proper hotel, with a proper honeymoon suite, complete with a four poster, king sized bed, and a bottle of champagne chilling on ice.

"What if he doesn't show?" Dean asked, looking worried and doubtful.

"If what he said was true, he'll show," Sam said reassuringly. "If he was lying, then we'll drink champagne and use the bed ourselves."

Together, the Winchesters knelt at the foot of the bed, much like they had in Bobby's living room all those months ago, and together they prayed, calling out to Castiel with sweet, polite invitations, begging him to come visit them, if only for a minute.

Only an instant after their prayer ended, the sound of fluttering wings filled the room. Castiel appeared before them in his usual black suit and skewed tie, and the same old rumpled beige rain coat. His hair was a dark mess of bed head as he looked down at the Winchesters kneeling at his feet.

"Why are you naked? Again?" Castiel asked, looking at the Winchester brothers with confusion spreading across his features. The scene was familiar to the one in Bobby's house all those months ago when they had bound him, but Castiel wasn't worried about that.

"We thought you'd like it if we were naked," Dean said, grinning his most charming grin.

"You did go to some pretty serious lengths to get us naked before," Sam went on, also smiling with all his charm. "We thought we'd make it clear that it isn't that difficult."

"I thought you'd be mad at me…" Castiel said, looking between the two brothers with their smiles that made his heart flutter, and their nudity that was far too tempting not to look upon with open hunger.

"Oh, we were," Dean said. "But then we got talking to a couple of folks, and noticed something kind of weird."

"Yeah, like, all those people who were killed, the lying preachers, the KKK, the inspirational speakers… no one seems to remember that," Sam said, putting on a mask of feigned confusion.

"So we looked it up," Dean continued. "No trace of it. In fact, all those people are still alive, like nothing ever happened to them."

"I made many mistakes before you collared me," Castiel said, looking ashamed of himself as he recalled his earlier power trip. "I've set to rights what I could."

"You missed something," Sam said.

"What did I miss?" Castiel asked.

"Us," Sam and Dean said together, flashing those bright smiles again.

"You said you loved us, and all you ever wanted was us, and then you ran off without another word," Dean said, pouting a little and looking miffed. "Not cool, dude."

"I thought it would be best if I left. My methods to win your affections were somewhat… underhanded," Castiel said, ashamed again, and breaking eye contact with the brothers.

"Understatement," Dean said with a scoffing laugh. "But that doesn't mean you run off, it means you stick around and make it up to us."

"I'm trying to," Castiel said, his voice low, almost pleading. "I brought people back to life, made peace in Heaven, I have even created order in Hell. What else would you have me do?" Castiel asked, looking at the brothers imploringly.

The Winchesters grinned at Castiel, and those mischievous smiles caught him off guard, when he had been expecting reprimands and anger. They looked over to the bed, and then back at Castiel. They stood together, and beckoned Castiel to follow as they slid onto the bed, covered in soft silk and cotton, a soothing contrast to the scratchy bedspreads they'd known before.

Castiel hesitated at the foot of the bed. His heart was racing, eager at the prospect of what the Winchesters were offering, but his mind was leery, unsure if this was the correct choice. He opened his mouth to speak, to doubt, to question, but he couldn't get a word out before Dean and Sam reached forward, grabbed each of his wrists, and hauled him onto the bed.

"Cas, we're going to start thinking you don't like us anymore," Dean teased, pulling Castiel close and tugging at his clothes.

"Before…" Castiel said, already a little breathless as Dean and Sam undressed him. He thought for a moment to make himself naked instantly, but decided he wanted the brothers to undress him by hand instead. "Before, you were so reluctant. Neither of you seemed to want me, not even when I offered."

"Can you blame us?" Dean asked sounding exasperated. "We thought we were raping you. Kind of puts a damper on the mood, you know?"

"But now?" Castiel asked, looking hopeful.

"Now, we're going to do it differently," Sam said as his tugged off the last of Castiel's clothes and threw everything off the bed.

"This time, you order us around," Dean said, directly into Castiel's ear, his voice low and husky already, just from undressing Castiel.

"Tell us what you want us to do. We'll do anything you say," Sam said.

"You don't have to do that," Castiel said, his eyes widening at the offer. "I was only pretending to obey orders before."

"You may have been pretending, but you still followed them," Sam said. "Every time we told you to leave the room, and stop offering yourself, and stop staring, you did it. So now it's your turn. Tell us what you want."

Words caught in Castiel's throat, so many, that he couldn't get any of them out. His mind raced around the last few months with the Winchesters, and all they had done, and all they hadn't done. Specifically what Dean and Sam had gotten up to in the motel rooms when they were alone and didn't know Castiel was watching them, and aching for that casual and easy affection they showed to each other. And then his mind went back to that first night, when they had lied to him, and tricked him, and he in his arrogance hadn't seen it. But while ignorant, he had gotten what he didn't even realize he wanted.

"I want," Castiel said, pausing, and licking his lips, barely able to form the words for his own intense desire. "I want it like the first night, when you bound me. I want both of you."

"We're all yours, Cas," Dean said after a heated groan.

"I want it slow. Like you do it with Sam. I want you to use your fingers in me," Castiel said breathlessly, closing his eyes and dredging up the memories of the Winchesters tumbling in bed together, wrestling for who would be on top, watching as they played with each other, getting their bodies ready.

"You ever watch us, Cas? Watch me and Sammy when we told you to leave the room?" Dean asked, his eyes dilating at the thought of Castiel watching them in secret the whole time.

"Every night," Castiel whispered back. "I wanted to be with you so badly."

"Come here, then," Sam said, patting the space on the bed between where he and Dean lounged. "We'll do it real slow for you."

Castiel slid between them, stretching out on his back, laid out in offering. The Winchesters didn't hesitate and went for him. Sam claimed Castiel's mouth first, nipping and licking and sucking his way inside, making Castiel moan wantonly from that first touch. Sam pulled away, slowly, after prolonged kisses, and then Dean was on him, kissing him just as soundly as his brother, swallowing up more needy moans.

Hands followed lips, mapping out over Castiel's body. Rough, calloused fingertips pinched at his nipples, broad hands grazed against his jaw and ear. They spread Castiel's legs, making them tremble as they stroked his thighs, but avoided where Castiel wanted to be touched the most, even when he whined for it. He had asked them to go slowly.

When they finally touched Castiel, it was with their mouths. Sam took the tip of Castiel's cock past his lips, suckling it teasingly at first before working more of it into his mouth. Dean's mouth moved lower, laving Castiel's balls, and teasing at his perineum with his fingers, but not going any lower, not yet.

Castiel squirmed and bucked beneath them. He thrust each hand into their hair, gripping it and pulling it gently, trying to urge them faster and harder, where he wanted them, but they resisted and continued their agonizingly slow pace.

"You said you'd do what I say," Castiel finally said, his voice thin and reedy with want.

"You said you wanted us to go slow," Sam said, momentarily pulling his lips from Castiel's cock, but staying close enough that each word puffed a breath against Castiel's tip.

"Go faster," Castiel growled.

The Winchesters grinned at each other, and then they went faster. They were a rush of movement and coiled muscles. Castiel was hauled up, moved, and positioned on top of Sam, straddling his hips while Sam laid back, perfectly comfortable and grinning up at Castiel. Dean was behind him, and before Castiel even had his bearings, he felt Dean's fingers, slippery and wet between his cheeks.

"Yes," Castiel moaned with approval, and he pushed back against Dean's fingers, urging him to push inside quickly. As requested, Dean did, sliding his finger in all at once, though still slowly, cautiously, as he always did with Sam.

Castiel turned his head, looking over his shoulder, watching as Dean worked his fingers inside. Dean looked up at him, smirked, and then turned his wrist in a seeking motion until Castiel's eyes lit up and he let out a shaky moan.

"You're very good at that," Castiel murmured, his voice huskier than before as he squirmed against Dean's fingers. "Even with your cock."

"Yeah? Did you really like it, before?" Dean asked, sounding a little doubtful as he asked Castiel about their time together when he was supposedly collared.

"I really did," Castiel said, as enthusiastically as he could to reassure his lover. "Except that you always had me on my stomach. I wanted to look at you… And kiss you."

"We'll have plenty of time for that," Dean said, kissing the back of Castiel's neck. "Though tonight you'll have to settle for kissing Sammy."

"I'm very happy to kiss Sammy," Castiel said, turning to face the younger Winchester.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as Castiel uttered his childhood nickname, something that Dean teased him with, or else whispered hotly in his ear when they were having sex. Hearing the name in Castiel's deep, gravelly voice sent a thrill through him, and he gladly accepted as Castiel leaned down to kiss him.

Dean groaned, watching as his brother and the angel kissed, their mouths locked together and drowning out their low, panting breaths. Not wanting to be forgotten, Dean continued with his fingers inside Castiel, working him open slowly and carefully, first with two fingers, and then finally three. The entire time, Castiel squirmed on top of Sam, rubbing their cocks together while they kissed languidly. As Dean prepared him, Castiel's kisses grew hungrier, more disjointed as he panted and moaned loudly into Sam's mouth. Beneath him, Sam moved on his own, rolling his hips up against Castiel's weight, seeking more stimulation.

"You ready for Sammy?" Dean asked, still working his fingers inside Castiel's body, reveling in how loose and wet he felt, just from his fingers and a bit of lube.

"I'm ready for both of you," Castiel said without hesitation. He squeezed around Dean's fingers to show how eager he was.

"C'mere," Sam said. His voice was rough and husky with desire as he moved his hands to Castiel's hips and maneuvered him slightly, raising him up. Castiel balanced on his knees, hovering over Sam as the man grabbed his cock and slid it between Castiel's cheeks. On Sam's word, Castiel pushed back against him, sinking down, taking Sam in smoothly.

"There's my boys," Dean said, his own voice rough and thick as he watched his brother fill Castiel up to the brim, stretching his hole open even further than his fingers had. He watched as Castiel shifted and twitched on top of Sam, giving small, tiny thrusts, and gasping whenever Sam moved underneath him.

"Dean, you gonna join us?" Sam asked teasingly, snapping Dean out of his reverie. Sam had grabbed Castiel's ass, spreading his cheeks wide open, and Castiel had leaned forward, resting chest-to-chest with Sam. He looked over his shoulder at Dean, his eyes an open invitation for Dean to join them.

"Man can't enjoy the view for a minute?" Dean said. But he moved closer, laying one hand over Sam's on Castiel's hip, and then grabbing his cock, to slot it up against Sam's and push into Castiel's body, slowly and carefully.

"Not hurting you, am I?" Dean asked cautiously as Castiel shivered and whined.

"Never, Dean," Castiel said, though his voice was a little shaky. Though he felt no pain, and the Winchesters could not hurt him, he left himself to fully feel their lovemaking in every other way. The stretch of two cocks inside him ached in a way that wasn't pain, and wasn't unpleasant. The fullness was there as well, washing over his whole body, until he almost felt like he couldn't breathe.

Castiel was the first to move, urging the overly cautious humans on by shifting his hips back and forth, rolling himself against the twin impalement. Both Winchesters moved as Castiel broke the freeze and started to move between them. It was their sign to move as well, to give into their desire.

It was shaky and disjointed at first, as they tried to find an equal rhythm between three people, which was hard enough sometimes with two. Dean settled into control, being the most mobile of the three, and set a steady pace that passed through to the other three, Castiel riding it easily, and Sam bucking up into it for support. Between them, Castiel rolled easily, taking the push and pull of them against his body.

Castiel was awash with pleasure. He'd had sex countless times with Dean and Sam, but it had never been like this. While he had been collared, they had always made him come, even though they didn't need to in order to renew the spell. He had enjoyed himself, and loved the feeling of them. But something had always been missing.

Now, as Dean and Sam rocked inside him, barely moving, but filling him up so completely, he knew what had been missing. The soft caress of their hands, the press of lips against his skin, the scattered moans and groans as they pumped inside him. He'd had their love and their duty before, but not their desire, not this willingness for pleasure.

That was the intoxicating pleasure that swelled through Castiel's body, overwhelming his senses, driving him higher and higher toward orgasm. The touch of the Winchesters heightened his pleasure, gave it root in reality, but it was their own love and desire that pushed Castiel over the edge, making him cry out between Sam and Dean as he came.

Dean and Sam echoed Castiel's cry, jerking to complete stillness as Castiel came. His body tightened around them, squeezing their cocks, milking them, asking them to finish as well and make the circle complete.

"Please," Castiel said, voicing what his body was already asking for. "I want to feel you."

The Winchesters shared a look over Castiel's shoulder, and then their hips jerked together at the same time, rutting into Castiel's still spasming hole. And like the first time, when they had bound Castiel and started this whole thing, the brothers came together, simultaneously filling Castiel up with their seed. Castiel moaned, sated and complete as the brothers filled him up. Satisfied, he slumped down into Sam's arms, and accepted Dean's weight on his back.

Dean was drinking his champagne and crinkled his nose from the dry, bubbly taste, a silent complaint that there weren't any American beers in the mini fridge.

Sam sipped his slowly, savoring the taste, and then pouring himself a little bit more because he didn't often get to have champagne, and didn't think he would again without getting teased by Dean.

Castiel sipped his slowly, like Sam did, but not because he was savoring. He didn't like the taste of it either, or the feel of the bubbles on his tongue. But he didn't say anything to the Winchesters. The beverage was clearly a significant part of their hotel choice.

The three of them were lounging in the over-sized, pillow topped bed, clean and dried thanks to Castiel, and finishing off the bottle of champagne before all the ice melted. Barely a word of any significance had passed between them in their post-coital comfort, and none of them seemed eager to break the silence that weighed heavily over them.

"There are things you want to ask me," Castiel said, breaking the silence once all the champagne was finally finished. He knew neither of the Winchesters wanted to speak first, and he'd laid enough burdens before them already.

"When do you need to go back to Heaven?" Dean blurted out after a moments' pause. Castiel smiled at the question, typical of Dean who was always afraid that the good things in his life would be temporary, and that those he loved would leave him.

"I'm in Heaven now," Castiel said, and at Dean's confused expression, he explained further. "I'm omniscient. It is not difficult for me to be in more than one place at a time."

"So… you were up in Heaven, talking to the other angels, and having sex with us at the same time? That's pretty kinky, Cas."

Castiel smiled indulgently at Dean's perverted take on his godly powers of omniscience. Besides, perhaps there was some truth to that, and some small, secret pleasure that surely some of the angels knew what he was doing.

"So you're still going to be God?" Sam asked, unperturbed by Dean's question, and getting down to the bones of the situation.

"I have no choice at this point," Castiel said, an almost frown on his lips. "The power that is within me is now part of me. To destroy that would destroy me as well. But, I am not as I was before. I will keep Heaven in check, but more than that is a dangerous path. I prefer my path to move alongside yours."

"God wants to hang out with a couple of grimy, incestuous hunters?" Dean asked, somewhat incredulously, his voice dipped in disbelief and sarcasm to protect his true emotions.

"Yes. It was a decision I made many months ago, when I broke free from the collar. I had a choice that day. I could have left. I could have been free. But I chose you two, and I would choose you again."

"Two hunters with God for back-up," Dean said with a grin. "Kind of gives us an unfair advantage, don't you think?"

"My father once walked the earth as a man," Castiel mused. "I think I would like to try that as well. Would you still have me, if I were only human?"

Sam and Dean didn't answer Castiel's question. Not with words anyway. Their actions spoke loud and clear though, as they made sure to get all their money's worth on that big, soft bed.

Epilogue

"Got you some extra underwear, a couple of T's and jeans from the goodwill, fake ID's, credit cards, hand gun, ammo, flask of holy water, flask of whisky, salt, machete… and a few other odds and ends," Sam said with a smile as he slid the heavy duffel bag over Castiel's shoulder. Castiel slumped slightly under the unexpected weight, but then shrugged the duffel better onto his shoulder and stood up straight once he got his footing. Sam smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Dean pulled up in the Impala. They'd been at Bobby's for a few days, relaxing, debriefing, and outfitting Castiel under Bobby's grumpy, but caring gaze. The old man had even given Castiel some shooting lessons in the backyard until he was able to hit a few bottles, if he really concentrated.

"Got gas, got salt, got road snacks," Dean said, climbing out of the car. He slid a candy bar into Castiel's hand, because they'd discovered he had a sweet tooth, and new sunglasses over his nose, gold rimmed aviators because they were cool. Finally, Dean gave Castiel a quick peck as well.

"Bobby, we're heading out!" Sam hollered up toward the front porch. He waited a few moments, and then Bobby came lurching out of the house, glaring at all three of them for no particular reason except that it was kind of expected.

"Call me when you get to Austin," Bobby said.

"Yes, Mom," Dean said, his voice thick on the sarcasm.

"Don't let these boys get you killed," Bobby said to Castiel, ignoring Dean's tone completely. There wasn't really any sense in encouraging him. "You do what they say, and you should be all right."

"I have been so far," Castiel said, smiling shyly.

Sam urged Castiel into the passenger seat next to Dean, and then slid himself into the backseat, secretly grateful that he had an excuse to stretch his long legs out on the bench with his laptop open on his knees. Dean let Castiel pick out one of the cassettes he had on hand. Then they drove off into the fading afternoon light, heading south to continue saving the world.