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Not Normal (So What Else Is New?)

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Dean loves watching Cas ride Sam.

It’s so rare that Castiel allows himself to relax and just feel, free from all the fear and reluctance toward other human activities that Dean keeps trying to hard sell at him. Cas pooh-poohs those things – food, liquor, skin mags – but he loves sex. He once said in passing that sex with the right person (or in this case, persons) is a close equivalent to angelic communion, not that Dean thinks of fucking quite in those terms, but he’s not about to go complaining when he gets to watch this.

He gets to watch Cas grind on top of Sam, who is lying flat on the bed, every bit as hypnotized as Dean by Cas’ open mouth, gasping into the air with every downward shove on to Sam’s cock.

A part of Dean will never get over the fact that Sam got to have Cas first. After all, Dean’s the one who found Cas – who was found by Cas – first. Dean has Cas’ first smile, first drink, first drop of freely-offered blood, so in the selfish part of Dean’s heart that isn’t content with the fact that Cas turned his back on all of Heaven for him, he wishes it was he who gave Cas his first orgasm.

But then Dean remembers who he is and how keeps secrets tight to his chest, including the craving that had clawed its way deep inside him at that first dangerous press of Cas’ hand to his mouth. What followed soon after was Cas’ death, and though Cas got better, in the aftermath Dean had forcefully shoved that want deep down where it would never be able to hurt Cas again.

Maybe in another universe Dean is weak enough – or strong enough, depending on how one looks at it – to reach out and touch Cas on his own.

In this one, he isn’t.

In this one, the pieces fit together this way, three points to make a balance. Slowly, reluctantly, Dean is coming to accept that this way he’ll never have to choose either one of them; he will never be forced to make the decision that could destroy him.

“No, Sam,” Cas says suddenly. Dean looks down to where Sam reluctantly pulls his hand away from Cas’ dick. “Don’t touch me there. I want it just like this.”

Dean chuckles softly. “You really like that, huh.”

Cas tilts his head to the side to catch his gaze. “It feels like home, Dean. When I am here, I can feel you both. I can sense your connection.”

Dean snorts. “So, what? You’re scoring a high on brotherly love?”

“Yes,” Cas sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “Do you think that this is normal, Dean? Do you think what you and Sam have is common? I have seen the birth and death of stars. I have watched the Earth scoured and in its wake, stubbornly flourish. I have seen the lives and deaths of billions of your kind, and not once witnessed anything like this.”

Well, that’s heavy duty talk that Dean doesn’t have a quip for. He glances at Sam, who looks a little embarrassed.

They both know they aren’t normal. They’ve been told that their co-dependency will destroy them, but in Cas’ mouth, it almost sounds like a blessing.

“I know I’m messed up,” Dean says.

Sam snorts, but the sentiment is directed inward, not at Dean.

They haven’t talked about it yet. Dean doesn’t know when or how Sam started thinking about his brother that way, but for all of the twisting unease in Dean’s stomach, it is an inalienable truth that he will (even if only eventually) forgive Sam anything.

Anything.

“Make way,” Dean says gruffly. He moves up behind Cas, arranging his knees as best as he can around Sam’s ridiculous beanstalk legs. He strokes his palms along Cas’ back in a caress, humming approvingly when Cas pushes back into the touch.

Dean looks down to where Cas is impaling himself on Sam’s cock – fucker is a bit bigger than Dean, but only a bit. That’s kind of hypnotic to watch as well, the way Cas’ skin stretches and drags with every rise and fall.

“I understand now why the other angels treat you as they do,” Cas says, glancing over his shoulder so Dean knows this is meant for both their ears. “You frighten them, because they can’t comprehend that you, men of earth and dust, have been given this – this connection that is as glorious as our Father’s touch, so long have they been deprived of it. They fear you because they envy, and that is why they keep trying to use this bond against you.”

Dean presses his face to the crook of Cas’ shoulder, kissing the skin while he glances down at Sam. Sam looks like how Dean feels – like he can’t believe what Cas is saying, but he wants to, so badly.

Dean’s always known the power Sam has over him, but he’s just now starting to understand how far it goes the other way.

“Cas, slow down, will ya,” Dean says.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, slowing down his glide, then gasping when he feels Dean’s hand move into the warm space where Cas and Sam’s bodies meet.

Sam makes a choked sound when Dean curls his fingers around his dick – it feels strange, but not as strange, which is just their type of fucked up. Dean drags his fingers up the shaft, and is hit by an unexpected pang of arousal at the broken gasp that breaks Sam’s lips.

Cas has stopped moving up and down, but he’s shivering, thighs parted wide and quivering in their effort to remain still. Dean brings his fingers high up enough to press at the skin where Cas is tight around Sam, thinking: huh, weird, and then huh, hot, followed by why not when he presses a finger past the rim, sliding it in alongside Sam’s cock.

Cas has already taken them both at the same time, so Dean knows that he can handle this.

The angle is awkward but Dean pushes in anyway to see how far he can go. Not very far, as it turns out, so he nudges at Cas’ elbow with his other hand, telling him to lift up a little without actually letting Sam slip out.

When he rises enough, Dean’s finger feels the ridges of Sam’s cock. They’re squeezed inside Cas, stupid tight against each other, but Dean manages to wriggle his fingertip a little. When he presses firmly against the head, Sam arches his back and comes with a shocked wail.

It’s kinda gross – Dean can feel Sam’s come spurting warm inside, but Sam is thrashing prettily on the sheets with his stupid face, stupid mouth, stupid floppy hair, and Dean’s own dick shudders with sympathetic arousal.

“Oh, oh, D—” Sam bites off the groan so Dean uses his other hand to squeeze Sam’s balls, forcing it out. “Dean!

Cas leans forward a little, stroking a soothing palm down Sam’s chest while he shakes through it.

“Done?” Dean asks, once Sam is breathing normally, more or less. “You think you can take Cas’ weight?”

Sam nods. Dean pushes Cas gently until he lowers himself forward, laying mostly on top of Sam, head tucked perfectly into the crook of his neck. Cas nuzzles Sam’s face happily, tongue flicking out to catch sweat from his chin.

Sam’s softening cock has already slipped out, so Dean braces his knees and pushes right in, taking his place. Cas has no leverage like this, what with his legs splayed wide helplessly, so Dean takes what he wants, gripping Cas’ hips and thrusting in deep. He admits that he likes Cas this way, when Sam has already loosened him up so it’s only warm welcome all around him.

Now Cas is making these sounds that are just… He sounds so happy, and surely anything that makes an angel sound like that can’t be completely wrong. In no time he feels the familiar rise of another A-class orgasm, so, caught in the moment, he bends forward and crowds around Cas’ shoulder to kiss Sam’s mouth.

Sam gasps into it, but the sound is almost drowned out by the loud, desperate noise that Cas makes. It sounds like affirmation – like a celebration of glory and joy and other things that Dean doesn’t have the words for, while on this plane Cas’ body jerks and comes all over Sam’s stomach.

Dean starts to laugh, but suddenly one of Sam’s ginormous hands is on his shoulder, pressed tight on the mark Castiel once made, and it burns like lightning, sharp and furious all the way down his spine in a brutal snap of pleasure. He has no choice but to come as well, shouting and writhing as Cas squeezes him dry.

Fun times for all.

After, while Dean takes his own sweet time getting his breath back and Sam fetches towels from the bathroom, Castiel sits up on the edge of the bed, an expression of serenity on his face.

“What’re you doing, Cas?” Sam asks.

“He’s praying,” Dean snorts.

Dean’s joking, and he fully expects to get a disapproving stare, so he’s shocked when Castiel merely looks at him mildly and says, “We have worshipped enough for one day.”

Dean blinks a few times; Sam doesn’t look like he understands any better.

“You’re not talking about... that,” Dean sputters. “I was kidding.”

Cas smiles. “I’m not.”