Dean is now 14 years old.
Dean was steadily taking more and more from his mommy. Now, the kisses are wetter, the touches last longer, and he doesn't even need Adam to be hanging off a breast in order to go ahead and take out one of his mommy's tits and start suckling.
Months after the first time he tasted the milky buds, it's now a familiar thing for Dean, during their idling on the sofa, to slide his hand under Sammy's shirt or bra, and start fondling his breasts.
He can't grope his mommy between his legs yet, and he hasn't even suggested they spend their quality time in less clothing (like he'd like to), but he's getting there.
Already, he now gets away with placing an open palm low on Sammy's stomach, inching down bit by bit until he can push past the rims of his mommy's sweats and shorts, and graze his fingers lightly through his coarse pubic hair. Sometimes, he simply tugs down the waistband of his mommy's sweats some and enjoys the view.
When Sam's exhausted - thanks to two-year-old Adam, who spends his time trying his legs at walking, experimenting with different ways of face planting into the carpet, throwing stuff around, throwing tantrums too whenever he's bored, and always, always demanding more attention from his mommy - Dean would offer a helping hand, quite literally, by giving Sammy a head massage or a foot rub.
He's seen his dad do that sometimes, and he wanted in.
He likes giving his mom some relief but also show him that he too can be a caring Alpha. On top of that, he friggin' enjoys rubbing Sam's head to coax out those orgasmic sounds his mommy unwittingly makes when he does, he loves carding his fingers through Sam's silky soft hair, or kissing the underside of Sam's feet when he's done kneading them, and rolling and pulling the toes. Dean loves his mommy's toes. Is there anything about this man that's not downright pretty?
Dean even skimmed through a book at his school's library and saw an educational video online on how to give proper (medical) massages, and if you know him well, Dean doesn't read books, mind you, and educational videos are for ... well, not for him.
But what his mommy doesn't know is that he plans on taking this further into the realm of shoulder and back rubs, and one day, full body massages, where his mommy would be lying in briefs, or better still fully undressed, and naked to his gaze and at his mercy. This way, Dean has a legitimate excuse to touch and squeeze everywhere, without needing to distract his mommy during, or making a gazillion baby steps over the course of several months first.
Dean thinks he only has to tactfully play this one card right, and his mom might not even think it too odd to be laid out, face down on his marriage bed, legs splayed, holding his cheeks apart for his son, so Dean could massage his asshole ... you know, to "ease the tension there, release pressure, relax the lower back" and all that. Dean will find something to say, he's sure, to make it sound like it's anything but erotic for him. He fantasizes about this scenario a lot.
He'll just have to wear a cock-ring while he's having this particular conversation so he won't blow his load too early - and yes, at 14, and interested in anything sex-related, Dean of course knows what a cock-ring is, though he's not of legal age to buy one if he desires. Dean's best friend, Benny, happens to be as obsessed with sex and body parts as Dean is, so they talk about these things all the time, especially during recesses at school where they can ogle girls and undress them with their eyes. Benny has popped his knot this year, a month after turning 14, and although he hasn't experienced a rut yet, his libido is often sky high.
An early bloomer, Dean has started to feel the heat too only this year. Before turning 14, scenting an omega's heat used to wash over him without reducing him to a boneless mess. Only his mom would make his blood run warm, and pool to his groin. Now, his reactions are becoming more intense, and spread out; he reacts to other omegas and betas, and his senses are becoming sharper.
It's all typical of Alphas who've presented very early; they don't feel much for the first two to three years after their knots pop, then suddenly, overnight seemingly, they feel everything.
Dad had, long ago, given Dean the birds and the bees talk, and explained to him that it's OK for him to get off in the privacy of his room or in the shower if he starts feeling the heat badly. In fact, it's physically draining and very unhealthy for an alpha to fight their heat, or force it to die out, if it hits hard. So he actually has to do it.
Of course, kids younger than sixteen aren't allowed porn, or sexual activity, so they're expected to get off using their imagination and plain old friction techniques.
Sure, with his sexy mommy strutting around the house, looking gorgeous and edible, Dean has a loaded spunk bank, in his head, usually featuring mommy in different compromising positions, naked or in purple lace panties that he holds aside for Dean so he can fuck into him ... imaginary scenarios where Sammy always begs prettily, and tells him he's his.
But at "horny 14," Dean still needs the aid of skin mags - that Benny smuggles from his dad's ever-growing collection - and he also blows steam with girls in school. He flirts, touches, makes out with them behind the bleachers, groping them everywhere, pulling down the zipper of his pants, lifting up skirts, grinding cock against pussy through underwear, usually soaked wet with precome. Once he'd ejaculated several times with the same girl, he moves on to another.
He rarely stays in these mock relationships for over a couple of months.
And oh, did Dean ever mention that he's a jock? Yes, he's sexy as hell and he knows it. His grandma had once predicted that he'll be a heart-breaker, and he kinda is, Dean thinks, and he's not even 16 yet. But being athletic and strong for his age helps his case, and usually inspires girls to drop their panties for him. Not just girls his age, but girls who're a year or two older, and in school, that's a feat!
His sexual encounters with the girls are mechanical though, more often than not, and always without any emotional investment (though Dean has mastered the seductive art of sweet talking, which is mostly pretty-sounding nonsense that the girls obviously swoon to, but is the closest thing to "affection" Dean can give away to these girls).
He's not cheating on his mom, Dean reasons. He and Sam are a done deal. He has to use the girls, he tells himself every night, considering how often he has to calm down little Dean, who now springs up and stands at attention whenever the wind blows a little too strongly, or a whiff of omega in heat tickles his nose.
Ever since he popped his knot, two years earlier, around the time his baby brother was born, his mom hasn't really experienced heat.
After giving birth, Sammy was weak - some omega males suffer profoundly during conception and child-breaking, and to top this off, he was one of those omegas whose bodies stop producing certain hormones right after birth, giving him intense hot flashes, menopause-like symptoms specific to omegas, and pains, especially during sex. His mom had explained it to him last year when he asked him about his lack of heats.
Besides the regular post pregnancy medicines, Sam was put on a lot of omega supplements shortly after birth for hormonal replacement, and some of these automatically suppress heat as a side-effect, and it's a good thing, since in Sam's case, for instance, heat would've probably ravished and weakened his body even more.
Heats take a toll on omega bodies.
That two-year medicinal schedule was up last week, however, and he heard Sammy tell his dad that he'll have to start monitoring his cycle again. In hushed whispers, he also heard them arrange the logistics - in short, what they'll do with Adam and Dean during those three or four days when his mom's heat hits bad, and dad would have to ease its brunt (through frantic sex marathons, Dean assumes, and immediately feels like emptying his stomach but manages to swallow back the bile already rising in his throat).
When the time comes for it, Dean promised himself, he'll have to be around, do what he can to help his mommy, so it's his touch that would soothe him instead of his dad's.
Yes, Dean knows he can't make love to his mommy, not yet, but he can do other things, if his mom allows it.
Practicalities aside, the thought that his mom, because of his nature, can't handle heats until he's fucked open on a dick constantly makes Dean angry at the world. He can't stop thinking about it, right up until that day his mom started permeating a shockingly pronounced scent that signaled the nearness of his heat.
Right now, they're sitting at the dinner table, and his dad is holding conference after dinner to discuss their new routine during the following four days. Sam knows his heat will probably intensify some time tomorrow.
Adam would have to stay at grandma's during the interlude, Cas explains. Being a little over two years old now, he can't be without a present caretaker for too long, and Sam will probably be too drained during the heat to give him the attention he needs. At grandma's he'll have a line of helpers to cater to his every whim, and Aunt Naomi, Castiel's half-sister, who's still single, adores Adam, and had already said she'd love to babysit him at their family home for a few days.
Dean is so far silent.
It's like everyone around this table is pretending they're not essentially talking about freeing the house for his dad to climb his mommy and do him. What's wrong with his family? They're sitting here, talking like they're making vacation plans.
Dean is already sulking, trying to hide his increasing annoyance that his mom looks glowing, cheeks blotched with red, and eyes bright with want. In a first, Dean feels like punching that look off of Sam, you know, practice some right hooks on mommy's pretty, beaming face. And man, his right hooks are good!
Goddamn, the violence of the mental image the thought inspires shakes up Dean. He gets a grip, puffing, quickly dismissing the ugly thoughts. He'd never intentionally hurt his mommy, or manhandle him, not like this.
According to dad, Dean will have to spend his time after school with Mrs. Harvelle, their next door neighbor, and her daughter, Jo, who's two years Dean's junior, and goes to the same school as Dean. Ellen will fetch them from school every day for the next four days, and bring them back to her house, where Dean will spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening, until Cas helps mommy take the edge off and he's settled and calmer, and it's time for Dean to go to bed. Other words for "Cas will send Dean away so he can fuck Sam into the mattress, and pump him with his seed."
Cue bloody murder.
Dad will be off work of course - companies happily accommodate Alphas partnered with omegas (betas don't go into heat).
"What about my training?" Dean asks, knowing he'll already refuse the arrangement whatever it is, but pretending to be interested in the details.
"I'll drive you there, and back again of course," Cas says matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, well, no! Dad, I don't wanna stay away all day. That's just terrible. I'll be in my room."
"Not gonna work, buddy."
"I don't wanna hang out with either Mrs. Harvelle or her daughter."
"Why? Mrs. Harvelle is one of the swee-" It's Sam who speaks this time.
But Dean cuts him off. "She's a wench and her daughter is annoying as hell."
"Dean!" Cas bellows, "watch your language, young man."
Dean ignores him, and fumes some more.
Sam suggests, "would it be easier, sweetheart, to sleep over at grandma's, you know, watch over Adam too?" Dean hesitates.
His mommy extends a hand to grip Dean's shoulders, probably to calm him a bit seeing that he's getting flustered, but Dean shrugs it away.
If Dean has a say, he doesn't want Adam to leave the house to begin with. He friggin' adores his baby brother, and he'd hate to be away from him for that long too. Four days, dammit. This truly sucks balls. Under other circumstances, he'd agree to watch over Adam in a blink. The little chubby boy is funny when he half-talks, half mumbles nonsense and he's a cute as a button. He might have had Dean a little whipped as well.
But no!
So, "no!" Dean says stubbornly. Castiel's parents live on the edge of town, and to make arrangements to get Dean to and from school everyday while he stays there might be problematic, so thankfully Cas shoots down this idea too.
"You don't have much of a choice, buddy," Castiel says, with a finality Dean rejects.
"I. will. not. spend my days with Ellen and Jo," Dean repeats through gritted teeth.
"It's Mrs. Harvelle," Dad corrects firmly.
Then he and Dean's mommy exchange meaningful looks.
"Look, Dean," Here it comes, and it's dad using his patronizing I-will-start-explaining-this-in-small-words voice. Exasperating. "This is the first time your mommy is going through heat while you're alpha. And we don't know how strongly your body will react to that. Yet. And we don't want to make it too hard for you. I mean, did you go through a rut before? during this past year? Cos if you go into a rut, with an omega in heat in the same house, it's a problem. So ... did you, you know, get a proper heat before?"
Dean glares daggers at his dad, then looks away, refusing to answer, and grinding his teeth.
"OK, I'm guessing no! So the first time is always hard, and we don't want you to experience it during a school week, with your next set of exams so close. It's different from being turned on. You already know that. And if your mom's heat accidentally stirs your first heat, without relief you may get sick, buddy."
Dean knows that first heats are the absolute worst, he heard all the stories about people forcing themselves on others during, or burning up when they fail to find relief, and no, jacking off doesn't cut it with heats. An alpha can control it only for so long, so he must either leave the proximity of said omega or take the omega; if he's around an omega in heat, long enough, without release, like his dad said, he'll probably fall ill. It's why omegas take leave from work, or school, during heats; both to avoid being jumped, raped, or molested, and to spare alphas the pain. Some take suppressants and suffer their long list of side effects.
In many ways, betas are the luckiest.
"Come on sweetie, it's for your own good to stay away during the worst of it," his mommy, interjects, cheeks burning red, clearly embarrassed, now that they're openly talking about this.
"It's not for my good, it's for yours, mom," Dean says, and pushes his chair back and stands up. "Cos you're horny and you can't control yourself!"
"Dean!" Sam protests. But Dean's on a roll now.
"It's for him," Dean spits then points at Cas accusingly, "cos he's selfish too, and, and p-possessive and he can't friggin' compete with another Alpha." It's for you, Dad, so you can be alone with your bitch, Dean wants to say, because it's true, and it definitely makes more sense than what he's babbling right now, and which even he knows is a load of crap.
But how can he make them understand the wrongness of it all, without sounding like a jealous lover.
Both parents flinch at his sudden antagonism, and are shocked at his rudeness.
"You know what, Dean?" Castiel says, voice raised, posture tense, now suddenly aggressive, his eyes hostile, like he's doing everything he can not to pounce on Dean, and strangle him. "You're not part of this conversation any more," he says, standing up and walking up to Dean. "The decision has been made. In fact, it's an order," he adds, poking a finger in Dean's chest.
Dean is a little afraid of his dad now, of the darkness that is seemingly gripping him, but he's not about to back down. So he squares his shoulder when his dad moves closer, and rises to his full height for effect. He's not that much shorter than his dad now. He'll probably outgrow him in a few years. But right now, his dad is towering over him a little menacingly.
Sure, his dad never hurt him before, but Dean so far has not really given him a reason to.
His dad is generally even-tempered, but if Dean's fair, Castiel's temper has never really been tested. Now that Dean thinks of it, he hasn't pushed his dad far enough to see if he's capable of turning. Dean is hardheaded and strong, but he's a skilled boxer, who's used to thinking on his feet and strategizing. He's not book-smart, like Adam or Sam, surely not, but in matters involving conflict, he's far from stupid.
He wouldn't take on an opponent blind.
And let's face it, if it comes down to wolf country as they call it, brute strength on brute strength, wolf on wolf, his father can probably easily take him, irrelevant of Dean's training.
And Castiel isin wolf mode now, with Sam's heat innervating his possessive streak, and his own heat stirring in response to Sam's and somewhat clouding his senses.
"Well, I'm not your soldier. And dad, when I'm done with school, I'm coming right back here," Dean says, his gaze defiant.
"And God help me, I'm breaking both your legs if you step through that door a single minute before I allow you to, Dean Winchester!" Cas shoots back, his voice venomous.
"Castiel!" Sam shouts. He comes to stand between them, back to Dean, nudging Castiel away. "How could you say something like this?" He pushes at his chest again. "... to our son?!"
Sam's angry now. Good, he should be, Dean thinks. Looks much better on him than that flushed, dreamy look he had a while earlier.
Adam who went from giggly to quiet, to subdued and flickering his eyes between them cautiously, baby brain unable to read the situation but sensing on a primal level that something is wrong, has now started wailing.
He probably caught the distress in his mommy's voice. Adam's crying has startled Dean, and immediately the boy felt guilty for partly upsetting his baby brother like this. He wants to take him in his arms, and shield him from this, including from himself, but his mom moves first, plucking Adam from his high chair, and putting him on his hip, bouncing him up and comforting him.
"Shhh, it's alright baby," Sam says, kissing Adam's face. "I scared you, honey. Shhhh, I know, I know, I'm sorry baby."
Sam looks back at his husband and son. Castiel breathes deep, then backs off from Dean, putting a lid on his rage.
He's still angry, but more in control now that his wife's shock at his words, and his toddler's wails sobered him.
"It's my fault," Sam says, in conclusion. "I should've planned this another way, and spared you all the pain. Taken suppressants or something. Instead of putting Dean through this. Dean shouldn't be made to change his routine. He shouldn't give up comforts for me."
Oh, I'd do anything for you mom, but not this, Dean thinks. I will not authorize your violation.
At Sam's words, Castiel's nostrils flare and his jaw clenches tightly. "That's it," Cas says, voice like steel. "Dean, to your room!" When Dean doesn't move. "Now!" Cas practically screams at him, his voice gone all-Alpha, and Dean can't help but have an about-face, abandon his plan of fighting back and instead speed to his room, climbing up two stairs at a time. He can hear his brother lunge into another crying fit, as he does, getting worked up again hearing Cas shout at Dean.
In the kitchen, Sam continues to comfort Adam, and Cas reluctantly joins in after Sam gives him a hard gaze.
"Let's move to the living room," Cas says. They do, and when they settle down, Cas puts his head between his hands, and takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself.
"That was ... disastrous," Sam says.
"Yeah," Cas agrees.
"I can't believe you threatened Dean like that. Cas, saying something so cruel ..." Sam simply says. "I mean, I know you didn't mean it of co-"
"Suppressants, Sam? really?" Cas begins, cutting off Sam's lecture. Sam nods slowly.
Cas continues: "You're barely recovering from childbirth. Two years on and you practically pass out from exhaustion when it's bedtime. And what, now you want to inject your body with poisons? ... and why? Just because our son is a spoilt brat!"
"Don't call him that!" Sam says sharply. He huffs a breath, then adds, "Dean is the most sensitive kid I know."
"That, that looked sensitive to you? Back there? Come back to Earth, Sam. Dean, he's selfish and-"
"No! Cas, no! Stop it," Sam says and when Adam gets upset again, Sam bounces him a bit and speaks to him softly.
"Look Cas, Dean just hates to be away, that's all. Besides, he doesn't understand. Cas, last time my heat came on, he was barely 11 or did you forget that?" Sam says.
Throughout his pregnancy, Sam was taking supplements that tapered off his heats.
Silence.
"No, I didn't forget," Cas finally says, partly humoring Sam, obviously still riled. Then he declares: "You're too close to him."
"What?"
"I've been seeing it for a while, Sam. You two are just too close. He's clinging to you, and you're letting him," Cas says.
"I don't know what you're talking about ... how close is too close anyway for a mother and son, who're also best friends?!" Sam says, genuinely baffled.
Cas huffs a laugh, devoid of humor. "Now he's your best friend?"
"Yeah, he is, Cas. And Dean's not clingy. He's considerate. Sensitive! ... despite his hard demeanor. He likes to pretend he's a hard-ass. But I know better. He has the decency to set aside time to spend together with his family. And I haven't met a kid his age who does this, let alone without being asked."
"For God's sake, he's too attached to you, Sam! Can't you see it? You're so wrapped up in each other. I mean, look at how you're rising to his defense."
"Wow, Cas. You're practically accusing our son of love! And you expect me to back you up?" Sam says, his tone mocking, hurt. "And what else? Blaming me for not trying to put a stopper on his feelings? Right. ... How dare he love his own mother? How very un-Alpha-like of him to be open about his feelings like the sweet child that he is?"
"That's not what I'm saying it, Sam, and you know it."
"Do I?"
A pause.
"What do you want me to do, Cas? Ask my son to back off when he tries to hug me, or kiss me? Push him away, perhaps? I don't know, maybe become my own mother, and hope he'll man up a little if I treat him like crap. Manhandle him and order him around, so he can grow to be tough. Huh, tell me. Cas, say it. What do you think I should do the next time Dean lays his head on my shoulder or spends an afternoon with me? Tell him to find another source of affection. Tell him to turn to his friends? Turn to strangers?"
Obviously, Castiel has hit a chord. So he quickly backpedals. He doesn't want to cause Sam distress; the point of imposing this separation during their heats was to give Sam a break, and avoid putting him on suppressants that would eat at his strength and good health.
His and Sam's looming heats are wearing them out, making them run hot and cold, and obviously, rendering Sam too emotional at the moment.
"You know, it's been a long day. So here's what's happening. Sam, I don't want to hear this suppressants talk again," he says. He softens a little, "please baby. For me," He then approaches Sam and takes both him and Adam, whose head is buried in Sam's neck, into at tight hug and puts all his love in it.
"I'm sorry, baby," he says, kissing Sam's forhead. "And you're right I didn't mean what I said to Dean. I wouldn't touch a hair on his head. I love him. I just-his attitude surprises me sometimes."
Sam nods, finally relaxing a little. And hugging Cas back with his free arm.
"For now, he'll have to do as I say, no discussions. It'll be a good way to teach him to reign himself in. If he wants to talk about things, we can talk. But not this time, not after how he reacted."
Sam feels he has to agree with Cas on this one. He loves his son to bits, but Dean's temper flares easily and for his sake, he needs to learn to control it.
So Sam nods, and he leans in to kiss his husband. When Cas opens his mouth, Sam quickly slips his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. They continue to taste each other, kiss, lick, bite each other's lips for several minutes, hunger growing, only stopping to catch a breath. When Sam gets a little worked up, his breath laboring, they both know they should stop before they lose control and pounce on each other, right here. Adam is still perched up on his mommy's shoulder. Sure, he's quiet; he picks up on the good energy and basks in it. But there's no need to scar the kid by taking this any further. So together they put him to sleep in his crib, after his mom feeds him one last time tonight, then lock themselves up in their room.
...
On the fourth afternoon of his banishment, Dean is still angry he was kicked out and could only speak to his mom on the phone briefly before he went to sleep. Instead of sleeping in his bed at night, his father has amended the plan, and on the first day, Uncle Bobby turned up at Dean's school to pick him up instead of Mrs. Harvelle.
As it turns out, his dad - sneaky Alpha - has decided Dean is to sleep over at Bobby's until his mom is out of heat. Dick move, if you ask Dean, but then what does Dean expect from a man who's thinking with his dick these days?
Uncle Bobby, an older maternal cousin of Cas, twice removed, told Dean that he'll also be his driver for the next few days. Dean is naturally taken aback by his dad's decision, but he knows he can't veto this one, not if he wants to avoid being maimed as per his dad's promise.
Besides, he loves Bobby, and would choose him any day over Ellen. At least, he'll get to spend some of his free time in Bobby's salvage yard, and maybe Bobby can teach him more about fixing cars. It wouldn't be the first time Dean spends a few days at Bobby's. He used to do it more often when he was 9 and 10. If he wasn't too angry, and missing his mom already, he'd even welcome the change of scenery.
When Bobby comes to school to take him home with him, he gives him a small duffel that his mom had filled with the essentials, plus a box of homemade double chocolate chip cookies, with a small paper plastered on the lid that read, "Miss you already, sweetheart. Love, mom xxx"
During breaks at school, Dean would sneak away with his current disposable "girlfriend," and make out and dry hump like there's no tomorrow. This always helps put his mind off things.
And now that this forced vacation from home is now near over and he should be seeing his mom later this afternoon.
As per the arrangement, it's not Uncle Bobby that's picking him up from school on the last day, but Ellen. She'll "kindly" drop him off to boxing training, his dad explained on the phone the night before, where he'll spend the late afternoon, then be home by early evening.
Castiel gave him the permission earlier to take a bus home following training. It's not strange. Castiel has been slowly easing Dean into a little independence, despite his mom's protests, including occasionally letting him take his own rides to places.
When his boxing session is cancelled, at a very short notice, Dean decides not to call in ahead and he just heads back early.
His dad will probably be on his way to grandma right now to pick Adam up, so that finally their life can go back to normal.
Despite his initial resentment at mom - and his resolution to boycott Sammy's delicious-looking cookies - he couldn't keep it up, and now he can't wait to throw himself in his mommy's arms, and lock lips with him until they both can't breathe right, and their lips are slick and swollen.
And of course, he ate all the cookies, inhaling every last crumb. And they didn't disappoint.
Throughout his break, Dean actively tried never to imagine what his parents could be doing; he knows what easing heats entail but trying to picture anything that could be happening between Castiel and Sam would constrict his chest, and make his eyes prickle.
Finally at the door of his house, he uses his extra key to let himself in. The ground floor of the house is empty, but nearing the stairs to the second floor, Dean hears sounds. Part of him immediately recognizes them for what they are. Moans of pleasure, coming from his parents' bedroom. Where else.
He lets his duffle fall to the floor with a muffled thud. Then Dean walks up the stairs very quietly. He's aware he may witness something he'll loathe and hate, but it's like he's hypnotized, and before he knows it, he's standing by his parents' ajared bedroom door. It was late afternoon, so although the lights were off on the upper floor, the room itself was illuminated by the soft reddish light seeping from between the half-closed window curtains.
And now standing at the door opening, he can see everything.
A very naked Cas is kneeling on the bed almost sitting on Sam's face, his cock wedged deep down his mommy's mouth. He is thrusting slowly. Sammy is moaning around his dad's cock. Through the gap between his dad's thighs, Dean can see the long arch of Sammy's neck, his chin and his swollen lips, stretched around his dad's thick girth. The same swollen lips he was dying to plunder only a few minutes ago, the same mouth he'd been fantasizing about for four days.
Sam himself is lying on his back, nude as the day he was born, feet planted on the bed, his knees obscenely spread wide, hips stuttering, a thick red dildo buried in his leaky hole, stretching the rim, opening him up - and Dean can see it all. His mom, with a cock fucking his throat, his body flushed and trembling with arousal, his full teets and his stuffed asshole exposed. Every few seconds, his mommy's toes would curl, his feet would just barely leave the bed and his soft belly pudge would tremble. Dean's trapped cock twitches and fights against its restraint; his arousal at odds with his mortification.
Sam almost gags a couple of times on the meat stuffed in his mouth, coughs wetly around it but soldiers on.
Sam's hands are curled around Cas' thighs, and his cock is standing up from a nest of curls. It bobs when he thrusts lightly into air, seeking friction that's not there. Head purplish and engorged, his dick hole is drooling precome like a leaky faucet against his belly.
The room is stuffy, like it hasn't been aired in a week, and it smells like sex and sweat, sickly so.
The bed his parents are lying on is messy, the linen already stripped and half falling off the bed; it's like a battle was waged there.
"Play with your nipples, go ahead Sam. Finger your nips," Cas says, his voice hoarse. His mommy whimpers, then slides his hands off Cas' thighs and brings it to his soft breasts, pinching on his buds, making them rock hard. Tugging them, dragging his nails over them, moaning again. Seeing this, Dean starts rubbing at his own cock, now hard enough to cut glass. He can't help it.
It makes him sick to his stomach to be getting off to this. But his mom is hot, and he's never seen him so raw, so vulnerable ... and open - figuratively and literally.
During the first few seconds of seeing this, pure scorching anger at his mom's betrayal warred with Dean's searing hot arousal, and the latter won.
"Does it feel good baby?" Cas whispers again.
"Hmmm."
Sam looks sick with pleasure, right now, dying to get off; rub his dick against something, anything. His back arches off the bed, hips jackknifes a few times, and his dick bounces heavily. When his thighs spread even wider, knees falling to the side, a spurt of slick oozing from his hole, making it even wetter, the movement and the wetness push the dildo out.
When it slides free, his mom's gaping hole is exposed, clinching on air, trying desperately to close, the relatively cooler air tickling the rim.
Dean looks as the hole keeps twitching, gaping and narrowing, breathing, like a tiny mouth.
The sight is killing him. He starts palming his dick, rubbing it, over fabric. Then he thinks to hell with it, opens his zipper and slides his hand inside his own briefs. He starts stripping his own length, up and down, quickly, punishingly. His lids want to close, but he can't let it; he needs to look.
The pain-pleasure of seeing his mom like this, being used by someone else, spread out like a $10 dollar hooker, yet having a full view of his glorious body, getting this craving satisfied, is filling him with a combination of loathing, rage, and maddening arousal. He wonders, as he watches Sam's hole twitch, whether one day he'll be able to take his mom like this. Then he wonders if his mommy is one of those omegas whose holes squirt when they orgasm.
Benny once showed him this porn clip on his ipad, where the male omega orgasms twice, once releasing his useless seed through his dick while he was being impaled on an alpha cock, and another squirting like girl, his male-pussy gushing a fountain of fluid in thick spurts ... erupting so hard, he was practically vibrating, bucking off the bed like he's being electrocuted, as his alpha tortured his nipples, and fucked his dick hole with a sound. The porn actor passed out from the pleasure and intensity of it.
Dean would give half his life to see his mommy reduced into a trembling, incoherent mess like this, thrashing, spraying jets of slick from his hole, after taking his cock.
His mom gags slightly around his dad's prick, trying to speak. Castiel pulls back. "What?"
"Fuck me," Sam croaks weakly.
"Come again, baby?" Castiel groans.
"Fill my hole, Cas, fill me up baby," his mom says, sounding filthy and wanton. Like a whore, Dean. Your mom is a whore, for Cas, another Alpha.
"Is your asshole open enough for me?" It's rhetorical. His mommy's delicious pucker is stretched loose.
"Oh God Cas, yes. I'm so wet and open for you baby," Sam hisses, chest rising and falling fast.
Castiel moves down the bed, his back still to the door and Dean. His parents are still oblivious to his presence.
He kneels between his lover's legs, throws the discarded dildo away, grips a foot in each hand, and pushes Sam's legs back, at once opening him and folding him in half. Sam's knees almost touch his shoulders, his bare feet in the air, toes spread. His ass is splayed obscenely.
Cas lines himself up then pushes in, his saliva-coated cock stabs Sammy's hole and in one hard thrust, Cas is balls deep inside his mommy's ass.
He growls like an animal, Sam cries out, his back arching, then Cas blankets him, and Sam burrows even deeper into the bed.
Cas, now lying face down between Sam's spread thighs, is chest to chest with Dean's mommy, their mouths breathing the same air, touching from forehead to groin. Dean can see where Cas' dick is buried in his mommy's ass, the knot filling up quickly ... ballooning ... with Sammy's rim red and impossibly stretched after eating up the fat knot.
"You okay, honey?" Cas whispers.
"Hmmm. Y-yeah, just please. Cas! Please."
"Please what baby?" Cas whispers again, playfully, punctuating his words with soft pecks to Sammy's lips. Sam breaths heavily for a few seconds, and Dean thinks his mommy's too gone to respond, then he hears it, a mere soft whimper. "Move."
With the words, Castiel gives Sam a hard thrust, rocking Sam's body backwards. The bed creaks. Then another. Creak. Slow, yet solid thrusts, that are driving the breath out of Sam's lungs. He cries and whimpers, but the sounds get swallowed up by Cas' open-mouth kisses. Cas goes slowly at first, kissing lovingly, sucking on Sam's lips, suckling on them, as he alternates between thrusting deeply into Sam and corkscrewing his cock slowly, like he's massaging the insides of his mom ... with his dick.
"Whose hole is this?" Cas speaks, his lips brushing Sam's spit-soaked ones. "Huh baby, who does this hole belong to?" Cas asks, his breathing ragged, circling his hips, then stabbing his cock inside Sam's ass.
"Yours," Sammy hisses, breaths hitching. "Yours, Cas." Kiss "Only." Kiss. "Yours. All of me, baby."
Hearing this, Dean can't hold the tears he didn't know has filled his eyes. It was almost like a betrayal, and the sad thing is, he can't get himself to move, walk away from this. It's setting his body on fire, at once filling his senses with physical, dirty, earthly pleasure, and clawing at his soul and tearing his heart to pieces.
Cas grazes the backs of his hands along Sam's arms, then takes Sam's palms in his and raises Sam's hands over this head, stretching his arms, lacing their fingers together, holding Sam in place, and locking their lips. Then he starts pounding into Sam with abandon.
Soon his mommy is thrashing, trembling, screaming his moans into dad's mouth, sobbing, asking dad to give it to him in those moments when their mouths separate to breathe, asking dad to plunder him. And that Cas does ... until Sam is mewling and coming untouched between them.
When Dean hears the sounds his mommy is making as he reaches orgasm, he comes, his own orgasm barreling through him, his seed erupting into his shorts. He bites his fist to stop from crying out loud, as he continues to milk his dick with his other fist for every last drop, his tears still falling freely.
When he's done shooting, his mom's arms and legs go lax and his head falls back. He might have blacked out a little, Dean can't tell for sure. Cas sits up, holds on to Sam's ankles and spreads his legs impossibly wide. He continues fucking into him in the same punishing pace, and Sam takes it like a ragdoll, his eyes closed, mouth open, his tits, belly and soft cock jiggling with the movement. His body is rocked violently up the bed.
Cas owns him, fucks him like he owns this body, Dean thinks and Sam gives it all to him; like a used toy, he's lying back, in a haze, and letting his body be consumed roughly ... violated.
With a loud groan, Cas comes too, shooting his seed deep inside his mommy, soiling his beautiful hole, and asserting his ownership yet again. He chest falls forward between Sam's outstretched arms. He blankets Sam. The he ties. And Dean can't stand there for a split second longer, can't watch them literally bond, tangled together, not knowing where one begins and the other ends, lying in each other's arms, cuddling, laughing softly, whispering or making out and trading the same breaths as they're glued together.
Now that would just be pure torture.
And Dean's just had his share of masochism for a whole year, thank you very much.
So Dean falls back, waddles to his room, his cock still heavy and hot, painfully sensitive, between his legs. He shuts his bedroom door, removes his soiled shorts, throws them in the laundry and steps into a fresh pair. He turns the lights off, then slips tiredly into bed.
His body is sated, still wrapping its head around this storm of pleasure that roared through him, like nothing it'd felt before, but there is a tsunami of pain in his chest. In a first, he suspects he might be delusional about how far he can claim his mommy, and the dark thought takes his breath away. He suddenly feels small and worthless. He usually dreams about his mom every night, the dreams soothing some of his needs and easing his unquestionable desire for Sam with intricately woven fantasies, with beautiful images of them together, married, bonded in every way. And every night, his mom sleeps in someone else's arms, drinking pleasure from someone else, promising his love and devotion to his father instead of him.
Also in a first, Dean feels sorry for himself.
His eyes begin to tingle again and he lets the silent tears fall. Under the dead weight of that mind-blowing (more like mind-fucking) orgasm, he can't fight sleep any longer. And as sleep washes over him, he secretly wishes it would end up swallowing him into its cocoon for good, propelling him into a deep darkness, where there's no pain or hurt or love to mourn over.
So Dean lets go and slips into unconsciousness, his eyelids drooping and his tear-streaked face rolling into the pillow.
His sleep is dreamless.