Disclaimer: nothing mine or this would be canon XD A. N. Happy birthday, Dean Winchester! This time, I didn't write this for anyone but me. And Dean, I guess. No prompt, no friend, nobody interested...but frankly, from what I've seen around, the universe needs more Wincestiel. Don't make Dean pick 2025. Here's the hill I'm dying on.

Joint gift

Dean doesn't expect anything for his birthday. Fine, maybe a slice of pie. But it's not like he's even a good person, you know. Not the kind of person who deserves to be happy, or that makes people around them want to show how lucky they feel to have them in their life. He tries to do at least some good things, but let's be honest: his nearest and dearest would have been better off without him. It's not chance than the ones who were alive to do it fucked off, repeatedly and with gusto. He doesn't like it, but he's stopped blaming them, because clearly he just has that effect on people. Beings. Whatever.

If Sammy takes longer than ever to shower after his morning run...it's not that he's stalling because he doesn't even want to see him today. Probably. Nah, it's just that Dean's coffee hasn't quite hit yet so he can't shut himself up as effectively as usual. He's so fucking whiny left to himself. Maybe he should just go back to his room and listen to some music, until it drowns out his pathetic internal monologue.
Before he can do that, Cas arrives – Sam in tow. The angel is smiling softly, but Sam – never mind the recent shower – is clearly tense and fidgety. So many alarms start blaring in Dean's brain. Either his baby brother has managed to mess up so royally Dean doesn't even really want to imagine, or he knows about their angel's intentions, and it's Cas who's about to drop a bomb on them. It's not like the angel hasn't fucked up in the past, and he doesn't really get humans sometimes, even if he's better at it by now.

"Sam and I are here about your birthday gift, Dean," the angel rumbles, "we've had some trouble deciding, and in the end a joint one seemed the best option. Or, well, whatever you'll choose."
The alarms cut back by half. Hopefully Cas just talked Sam into something weird, and he knows Dean's about to blow a fuse. He really, really hopes it's not an apiary, what with Cas' bee penchant.

"More like whomever," his brother corrects, voice tight, and – what? Are they buying him a lapdance, too, like he did Sammy? Not the idea he'd expect from Cas, but not something that should stress anyone out. "So, huh...Cas came to see me, and said that his idea for your birthday was to make sure you were loved back, because that'd obviously make you the happiest."
Has the angel been watching chick flick movies? That's why Dean can't stand the things. He knows that's simply not in the cards for him, why be a masochist and indulge that fantasy?
"Of course I told him he had my blessing, if that was the issue, since I wasn't sure why he was talking to me in the first place," Sam concludes, and for the moment, he sounds less jittery.
"And naturally I explained you're his soulmate, not mine, so I needed his cooperation for anything to happen," Cas explains, still smiling, like he hasn't just thrown a bomb out there.
"Wait," Dean asks, voice strangled, "so your idea was what? To send Sam to my bedroom wrapped in a fucking bow?"
"I wasn't aware that a bow was necessary, but yeah," the angel replies. Completely unfazed.

Dean just barely manages not to laugh hysterically. Asking if he remembers that Sam is his brother sounds pretty pointless, and honestly what he says is not entirely a surprise, not after Ash, but Dean had always assumed theirs was a different special case. Unrelated to (one of the many, but possibly the main) reason he deserves hell, instead of any heaven.

He has a lid on it, though. He'd never, ever ask. After all, Sam would run away, he just knew, and – the one other person he'd managed to love way too much in his life too, both too rightfully disgusted to ever be in the same room as him again. Or so he thought. And yet, that other person (obviously it's Cas, who else?) is here, confessing his matchmaking plans.
"Your brother argued that you're in love with me, instead, and – he built a surprisingly strong case," Cas admits, sounding a little baffled.
"Yeah, well, I was pre-law." Sam sounds smug now, but he's earned it. "And I know you," he looks at Dean, soft and fond, and still – scared."And I know better, or should, but Cas had – a lot to say, too, and I'm selfish, or greedy, or, I don't even know. So, I thought I'd never, but...just once. I love you, De. More than anything, definitely more than I should." His voice wanes with every word, till it's barely a breath.
"It might not matter much, but I love you too, in every way someone can be loved," Cas says, and Dean doesn't remember leaving the bunker in a while, but he must have, right? This gotta be a djinn. And no monster should be able to intrude their crazily warded home. "So, you know," the angel continues, "it's on you to take, now. One of us, if we're mistaken. Or both, if you want."
"Both?" Dean croaks. OK, let's just pretend this is real for a minute (he can always rip himself out of it later). There's still no way that they'd be okay to share.
"The point is making you the happiest, Dean," his angel replies, like it's all the explanation it's needed.
"If you want," Sam repeats, "we reached an agreement." For a minute, Dean almost cackles, struck by the mental image of his brother drawing up joint custody papers of a sort. "If you don't, don't worry. You're not going to hear a word about it from the unrequited party at all. You can just...forget and have everything go back to normal. Unless you can't. If you prefer, I'm ready to pick a hemisphere."
Dean wonders if the echo of his own words during the apocalypse is intentional. If that's what Sam feels it'd be like.
"We're ready, Sam," Cas chides him gently, "you're assuming you're right."
His baby brother ignores the angel. "And if it'd still be getting away too easy, if there's blood to pay... have at it." Apparently his piece is done, because Sam shuts up and looks down, the floor suddenly riveting.

Cas, instead, is staring at him, eyes soft and patient. Dean goes to him, and kisses him like he's wanted to for too long, eager and hungry and thorough. Even while he's busy, though, he notices Sam inching backwards - about to leave, no doubt - and he snatches a hand to grab his brother's hip.

"Thought you said I didn't have to make a choice," he says, coming up for air.

"Thought you'd made it," Sam replies softly.

"Seriously, Sammy? One time in my life that I don't put you first, and you assume I'm not as fucked up about you as you are about me? Dude, it's not just the soulmate thing, we're obvious enough that the fans know." And isn't that weird. Well, they know about him, at least. This is...probably not real, but he's going to roll with it, just the once. "But it was Cas' idea, so I had to thank him first, right?"

"Right." Sam grins at him. "So, does that mean I get a kiss too?"

"For a start."
He'd always assumed that Sammy would be a sweet little (well, not literally) thing when making love, slow and gentle and all that chick-flick-worthy nonsense, but damn he was wrong. Sam kisses like he wants to climb inside him and eat him up from the inside, or at least like he needs to clean up every last trace of Cas and get to the pure Dean underneath, and Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't loving it. Not that he can say anything right now, mouth very much occupied.

When need of oxygen forces them to part, Sam looks...happy. Happier than he's seen him in years, if not ever. Dean lets himself feel proud to be the cause of that.

"For a start?" Sammy asks.

"Don't be greedy now, baby boy. Oh, there'll be more, but let's keep things fair, huh? Because if you were honest, then I'm going to have both of you. You know I do love my burgers. I'm going to make myself one...and you know me, meat man."

Cas moves towards the kitchen, bless his soul (or whatever he has), but Sam stops him, laughing. "Nope, Cas. Dean's not literal. He's just used the least sexy line he probably came up with in his whole life. Your bedroom, then?"

"We're for sure not using yours, why you insist on making it uncomfortable is beyond me," Dean huffs.

"Maybe I wanted to be invited."

Dean's a little floored at that, but then chuckles. "Well, then first say thank you to Cas for figuring out I needed it spelled out."

Sam seems a little shocked, but he's game, and Cas doesn't argue. It's the two hottest people Dean knows together, and he groans at the show. Ok, they definitely need too move this to the bedroom - stat.
They head the right way, Sam pawing at him like the unruly puppy he is and Dean doing his best to get rid of at least some of Cas' clothes in the meantime.

"So, how do you want this to happen?" Cas rumbles, naked from the waist up, clear blue eyes so full of love Dean's tempted to pinch himself.

He turns to his brother, "Well, Sammy, how do you feel about sloppy seconds? Because I've seen you, and if we do it the other way around, I'm afraid Cas won't even feel I'm here."

From his moan, Sam has no objections. "You were serious about the burger, yeah?" he asks after.

"Dead serious. Don't worry, I'm not making you sit and wait your turn, baby boy."

"Then yes, Dee. Yours," his brother sighs.

"Damn right you are, Sammy." He caresses Cas' chest, just because he can. "You heard it, sunshine, you get to go first round, while I take Sammy. Then we swap around, because once is so not going to be enough."
Any remaining clothes suddenly disappear from their bodies, materializing in a heap on the chair in the corner.

Dean grins. "Well, someone's eager." He hops on the bed, knowing he'll be followed, and opens the nightstand's drawer for the lube. Good thing it's almost new, too. Sam's nuzzling him while he slicks his hand up, and breathes, "Just...be careful. Never bottomed before."

"What, were you saving yourself for me?"

It 's supposed to be a joke, but his brother full-body flushes and says, "Yeah," and it's a miracle Dean doesn't come on the spot.

Sam's on his right side, Cas on his left, dropping kisses on the nape of his neck and otherwise being deliciously distracting, but Dean's going to do this right. He tries to pass the lube to Cas and get to the task of preparing his baby brother - no way he's harming him - but the angel lets it fall to the bed. Dean tears his eyes away from the pretty little hole he's just started teasing to glare at the angel. "Cas. Lube. You can't just shove it in. Tearing me up would make for a lousy gift."

"I can heal you. Do you really think I need objects to make you relaxed and the event enjoyable?" He sounds stern, and between the commanding attitude and the idea of grace as lube, Dean moans, loud and wrecked.

"How quick can you...?" he asks, because he's just slipped one finger inside Sammy, and Christ, he can't believe how tight his baby boy is. It's gonna take ages for Dean to be able to get even another finger in, and the ball of want inside him, years and years and years of pining accumulated, is about ready to explode and tear apart the remaining tatters of Dean's sanity if he has to deny himself any longer.

Cas grabs his ass, spreads his cheeks but doesn't even touch his hole, the show-off, before Dean feels suddenly, achingly empty. There's no doubt that the angel could take him right now and he would beg for more.

He's wasted a source of pleasure, though, and it's Dean's duty to teach Cas about humanity. He groans, "Okay, sunshine, help me out, " and Cas hasn't even touched Sam when Dean can feel him start to give, but before the angel can go all out, Dean snaps, "Wait. Come here with me." He takes the angel's hand with his clean one and guides him, till he's right there next to him. "Feel how tight he is, Cas."

The angel's finger slips in right next to his, and Sam groans, "What", half confused half needy.

"Mine, Sammy," Dean growls. "Mine to have, mine to share, mine to pleas.," Oh, here's his prostate, from the surprisingly high-pitched moan he gets. As soon as his finger retreats, Cas takes his place, and they get a rhythm going, giving Sam no quarter. When his brother is on the very brink - Dean knows his breath, his sounds, from an adolescence with no privacy at all (not that he didn't like it...does soulmates excuse it) - he takes his hand entirely away. Cas, of course, follows suit. "Mine to deny," he concludes.

"Dean," Sam whines in protest.

"You're not coming without my cock, baby boy," he says, and Sam's objections die on his lips. "Is he ready, Cas?"

"Please, please, please," Sam begs, rubbing shamelessly against him.

"I didn't ask you." God knows, Sam doesn't know what's good for him half the time.

"As ready as you are," the angel rumbles.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" He smirks, arching against Cas.

His angel gets the memo, and finally that aching emptiness is gone, replaced with Cas' glorious cock and sweet whispers about how perfect Dean is. He knows better than to believe it, but right here right now he lets himself be carried home, allowing his angel's drive and reassurances to help guide him right into Sammy, who grunts his name with something between need and reverence.

The rhythm Cas sets – and Dean lets himself roll with, absorbing the pleasure and love like a desiccated sponge – is powerful but slow, peppered with more kisses and praise that has Dean's heart and his head near swimming. On his other side, Sam keeps arching against him, as if afraid that if his brother slips too far he's not going to come back, broken begging and whines falling from his lips. Dean keeps caressing his flanks, his back, and only when Sammy can't take it anymore and goes to jack himself off slaps his boy's hand away and touches the cock he's thought about for decades, earning a punched-out groan.

"Please please please Dee."
"Come for me Sammy," he finally breathes, and the boy does, right on command. Dean's not even sure whether that or Sam squeezing him like a vice is what triggers his own orgasm one second later.
Now it's his turn to plead, "Please Cas please I need it," and three passes later he can feel the angel painting his insides, with a moan so deep it's near subsonic.
"Wow," Dean sighs, throwing an arm over each of his lovers. "I think I'll pass out now."
"Thought you wanted it both ways, Dean," Cas says.
"Oh, I do, but I'm not fifteen anymore, and neither is Sam. Gonna take a while before we can go again," he replies, feeling very much like happy jello.

"You keep forgetting how malleable the human body is to grace's influence," Cas reminds him.
Dean swallows. "No refractory period card?"
Cas shakes his head. "It's not a card, Dean. It's..."
Dean shuts him up with a finger across the angel's lips. "Hush, sweetheart, I don't care about the details. What do you say, Sammy? Up for being up?"
"Always, if you are."

"Then, Cas, since you offered. Want it that bad, do you?" He turns to face the angel.

"I want you to have everything you've ever wanted," Cas says, but at Dean's raised eyebrow and teasing expression, he adds, "Yes."

"Did any of your flings play with your back door... I mean your ass,"Dean explains, at Cas' puzzled expression.

"None of us saw the point," Cas says with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, I'll show you the point, love. You're going to want it all the time from now on, but - we still have to hunt sometimes, deal?"

Cas laughs. "Deal."

He gets to pop two cherries in one day. Luckiest sonofabitch in the world. "And l know you could just relax and be done with it, but let me feel you, will you?"

"Whatever you like," Cas promises, and when Dean slips just the tip of one finger in, he groans. Christ, if the angel hadn't taken away his refractory period, he suspects just feeling this would have had the same effect. He's hard enough to pound nails.

"Fair's fair, though, so - come here, Sammy, help me out. You're gonna be so envious."

"Cas?" Sam asks anyway, unsure.

"Fair. Make sure I'm good enough for him, Sam."

Dean isn't sure if his brother's moan comes from how delicious Cas' ass is, or from the responsibility bestowed upon him.

"Help me spread him, baby boy," he purrs, and Sam does, working so so well in tandem with him, as ever.

When he finds Cas' prostate, eliciting a drawn-out moan, Dean comments, "Point found. There you go. Nice, huh?"

Cas nods fervently apparently unable to form words right now.

"I'll make it even better. Just let me in, and you'll see,"

"In, please," his angel says, and Dean barely holds in a laugh but obliges.

Sam has drawn back, and he's mouthing at Dean's untouched shoulder, laving and nipping. "And me?" he asks, his cock dragging against Dean's hip.

"Get in before I tighten too much again, baby boy. And thank Cas for opening me enough for that baseball bat you have there."

"Thanks Cas," Sammy says obediently, slipping inside. Dean can feel it misplace Cas' cum, and moans at the idea. And then moans again when Sammy's monster cock finds his prostate at first try. His baby brother is a genius, he's always said it.

"Dean Dean Dean," Cas chants, and it sounds the way others would say God. The rhythm Sam sets is more intense than the angel did, rabbiting against Dean's prostate like he's trying to set some sort of record. His mouth returns to Dean's shoulder again and again, nipping and sucking, then to climbs to his neck, and Dean wonders if part of him wants to leave his mark too.

At least, the little sparks of hurt have convinced Dean this can't be a djinn - he's intimate with all kinds of pain, and this is definitely real. He'd tell Sam he can go deep. He can take a knife and carve his brand into Dean, anything that'll settle down whatever jealousy or anxiety is driving him. Then again, Dean doesn't mind a little sting with his sex, and if Sam has to leave a mark each and every time...Dean wouldn't be complaining.

He does say, "Yours," and it's true - he's theirs, both of them. The things he'd do for them. And they reciprocate for him, and it's real. Suddenly Dean's on the brink, but he needs Cas to come. He needs him to, because he's not going to leave a lover unsatisfied, damn it.

So he says, "Come on, Cas, love, let go," and his angel does, coming untouched, just because Dean asked.

Dean lets himself fall off that cliff, too, and two seconds later, Sam follows after him, as ever. He stays inside Dean though, nuzzling him.

"I'm not leaving this bed today," Dean declares, voice dreamy. Cas grins against him.

"Ok, maybe it's an exaggeration, but nap now. It's an order."

Sam laughs. "Don't push it, but yeah."

"I'll watch over you," Cas declares. And it should be weird, it should be creepy, but so long as he stays in Dean's arms? Dean's good with it. Both the people he loves in his bed, curled against him. All's finally right in his life.