miss california. (_mournthewicked) wrote,
miss california.

fic: we crash and we roll [collab with obstinatrix] (part two)

[part one]

Dean wants to speak, wants to tell Cas how good he feels shoved down onto his dick, but he can’t seem to find the words. So instead he changes his angle a bit and thrusts, knowing he hit his mark when Cas makes a sound like he’s dying, shoulders curling in from the force of it. “Yeah, Cas, feel that?” Dean pounds into him relentlessly, hitting the same spot over and over, fucking in so sharply that it’s only Sam’s arm around Cas’s shoulders that keeps them from moving up the bed.

“Dean, Dean, yes, Dean.” Cas says his name over and over, choked out like a sob, and Sam makes a soothing noise against his cheek. He curls his fingers under Cas’s chin, turning him in a bit to kiss him. Cas shuts his eyes, whimpering endlessly into Sam’s mouth, biting at his lips hard enough to make Sam hiss.

“Shh, Cas, he’s got you. Dean’s got you.” Sam puts his giant hand on Cas’s cheek, thumbing the wetness from the corner of his eye. Dean can’t take it anymore. He surges forward, nearly folding Castiel in half as he takes Cas’s mouth for himself. Cas makes a muffled noise of assent against Dean’s bruising kiss, gasping sharply as Dean fucks into him. He’s being rough, knows he is, but it’s not like Cas can’t take it. He isn’t some delicate flower. Just to prove the point, Dean pulls nearly all of the way out and slams back in hard, groaning when Castiel tightens his muscles around him, tossing his head back in a noise that’s on the edge of a scream.

“Yeah, Cas, that’s it.” Dean puts his hand on the side of Castiel’s face, nearly smiling when Sam leans in to kiss the sweaty, stubbled curve of Cas’s jaw. “You look so good takin’ my dick, baby, so damn good. Gonna come, Cas. Want me to come inside you, mark you all up inside?”

He's close enough already that he doesn't think he could stop himself, whatever Cas said, but it's gratifying all the same when he groans out, "Dean, yes, yes," and fucks up sharply, muscles clamping sudden and fierce around Dean's cock. Cas is, shit, Cas is coming, broken-glass cry ripping its way out of his throat, and he's clenching and unclenching around Dean's length as he seizes up, starts pulsing it out in spurts.

"Jesus, Cas." Cas comes hard, always, muscles of his stomach pulling tight as his cock jerks up, slaps against them, thick white bursts of it slicking over his skin. Dean can't take it, not after all this, Sam's rough-rasped filth and Cas's tight heat around him. Cas is everything, the one who put Dean so painstakingly back together, and here Dean's taking him relentlessly apart, feeling him shake and shiver around his dick. Sam is groaning low in his throat, and Dean feels his rhythm go stuttered and broken, orgasm welling up out of him like blood.

"Cas." He fucks himself through it as it takes him, pulses of it filling Cas up from the inside till he's slipping in the wetness, cock making obscene sounds as he pulls out, shoves back in. "God, you're so good, doin' so good, shit, comin' in you, you feel that? You feel --"

But Cas is groaning, pulling him in, and then their mouths are rubbing slackly together, Cas breathing shakily against Dean's lips, and he gives up talking. Cas’s arm goes around Dean’s shoulders, holding him crushingly tight against his body. The slick mess of Cas’s come rubs between their bellies and Dean moans at the feel of it, cupping Cas’s cheek and kissing him soundly. Sam’s hand is on the back of his neck, thumb pressing in at the soft spot under his ear.

“God, Cas, that was --” Dean cuts himself off and kisses Cas again, making a muffled noise of surprise when Cas rolls them over with little effort. He presses Dean into the mattress, smiling almost indulgently as he pulls off of him with a soft squelch. Dean sighs at the loss as his softening cock settles wetly against his thigh.

“I believe it’s Sam’s turn.” Castiel nearly smirks as he sits back on his haunches, beautiful lean body displayed shamelessly, slick and shiny with sweat and come. He reaches out to touch Sam’s hip, thumb tracing the groove of it. “How do you want me, Sam?”

Dean almost wishes he had a picture of Sam’s face at that moment, the slack-jawed awe in his expression. It’s amazing, Dean thinks, that however temporarily, Castiel is able to render his foulmouthed-in-the-thick-of-it little brother speechless with just a few choice words.

Sam.” There’s something understanding in Cas’s tone and he shuffles forward, lifting himself up and settling down splayed across Sam’s lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he leans back against the headboard. His other hand goes to Sam’s cheek, cupping it as he thumbs at the dip below his lower lip. Cas seems mighty fond of that spot, leaning in to press a kiss to the swell of it. “I want you to have this,” he mumbles soothingly against Sam’s slack mouth. “Stop thinking that it’s not something that you’re worthy of, because it simply isn’t true.”

That makes Sam blush, not Cas rocking his ass against Sam’s cock, or the way Dean’s come is leaking out of Cas, smearing across Sam’s balls as he rolls his hips down, but Castiel calling him out on the bullshit in his mind. Exhausted as he is, Dean rolls up onto his knees and fits himself in behind Cas, pressing a kiss to the top of one shoulder as he reaches around to touch his brother’s arm.

“Ride him, Cas,” Dean says softly, lips full against Cas’s ear. “He likes that. Don’t you, Sammy?”

“Yeah - Yeah, Cas.” Sam’s eyes flick to Dean’s over his shoulder and Dean nods, reaching out to grab Cas by the hips and lift. Cas moves with him easily, rising up on his knees and positioning himself over Sam’s lap. Dean reaches between his legs to grip the base of Sam’s cock, holding him steady as he pulls Cas down a bit, teasing at his puffy hole with the head of his brother’s dick. Sam whimpers, hands scrabbling at Cas’s hips.

“He’s ready for you, Sammy, all slick and open with my come.” Dean’s gaze flicks from Sam’s face down to his cock, licking his lips as Cas whines eagerly. “That’s it, Cas. Sam’s cock feels so good, let him in.” Dean pulls Cas down by his hip, and the three of them gasp together when Sam breaches him. Cas sinks down in one smooth slide, taking Sam easily thanks to Dean’s release slicking the way. “There we go.”

“Oh - oh, Cas.” Sam makes a noise that sounds like a sob, head dropping to Castiel’s shoulder as Dean lets go of Sam’s dick so Cas can settle fully on his lap, taking him all the way inside. Dean’s transfixed by the way Sam looks buried inside of Cas’s ass, even more so by the look on Sam’s face. “God, Cas, you're --”

“Shh, Sam.” Cas swivels his hips in a slow figure-eight, one of Dean’s signature moves, and leans in to kiss Sam’s mouth almost tenderly.

Much as Dean loves to watch them fuck, there's some deep-buried part of him that likes this even more, the way Cas suckles at Sam's lower lip until Sam is trembling, their tongues meeting soft and slow between their mouths. The look on Sam's face is transcendent, brows drawn together in the shadow of a frown, and his shoulders go slack as Cas goes on kissing him, as if an outward sign of the absolution he's taking from Cas's mouth. God. Such a load of sappy shit, but Dean can't help the way it makes his chest pull tight, licking over his skin in a rush of warmth that's something deeper than sex. "God," he whispers, and it's half a prayer. "Yeah, Cas. So fucking beautiful."

He doesn't have the heart to tell them to get the fuck on with it, not when Sam's hips are jerking already, helpless and frenetic in contrast to the slow slide of their mouths, the gentle motions of his hands. Cas starts to move again anyway, after a while, right when Dean's dick has started to pay attention to the way the sweat is sheened at Cas's tailbone, the pink stretch of his hole where it grips Sam's cock. Sam is trembling, blissed out, moved -- there's no other word for it -- and when Cas pulls off him slowly, shoves back down onto his dick, Sam's fingers clench on Cas's back, hooked around the jutting wings of his shoulder blades.

"Cas," he's murmuring, "Cas," and their mouths have separated, but only by a breath, lips rubbing wet and bruised against each other as Cas lifts up, torques back down. He's trembling with the effort, muscles in his arms pulling tight where he's bracing them on Sam's solid shoulders, but Sam gets with it after a minute and takes hold of his hips, taking the bulk of Cas's weight. Sam's hands look massive there, Dean notices with a new spark of interest, thumbs in the grooves of Cas's hipbones, fingers spanning almost to his spine. Cas shudders, bucks down hard onto Sam, and Sam rolls with it, cock pulling out and then spearing back in, and Dean can feel when it hits the right spot, gravity pulling Cas down as Sam shoves up against his prostate.

"Sam," Cas spits, whole body arching, and fuck, yeah, this is becoming something else, now, something dirtier than lovemaking. Dean never wants to have to say that word aloud, and happily, Sam's moving swiftly away from it, growl of possession surging out of his throat as he grips Cas hard and fucks in deep.

Sam’s slipping on the bed, feet digging down into the mattress on either side of Dean, so he takes it upon himself to make them more comfortable. He grabs Sam’s ankles and slides backwards, tugging until Sam’s flat on the bed and Cas has to brace himself with his hands on Sam’s chest. And fuck, that’s hot. Dean’s sure that how he feels for Cas’s hands comes pretty close to a fetish. He likes to suck marks into the thin, pale skin of Cas’s delicate wrists, likes to take his fingers into his mouth almost as much as his cock. And now Cas’s hands are on Sam’s chest, fingertips digging into sculpted muscle. Sam brings his knees up, hands going to Cas’s hips as he starts to fucking bounce, short little jolts up and down on Sam’s cock with tiny, breathy moans to match.

Cas is so pale and slender, muscular but sinewy and lean, and the contrast he makes against Sam, all tanned muscle and brawn, makes Dean’s mouth water. They look amazing together, and Dean’s almost surprised when he wraps his hand around his cock to find it hard again, straining hopefully towards his belly. He may have just come, but he’s no match for the picture they make, the way he can see his own come shining slickly on Cas’s ass and his brother’s cock before it’s buried deep again.

When they’re together like this, it’s all about the three of them. No one gets left out, not ever, but Dean’s happy to let them have this moment. Sam’s face is almost worshipful as he stares up at Cas -- Cas, who's riding Sam like a goddamn pro, taking pages right out of Dean’s own personal playbook. He realizes with a jolt that he taught Cas how to take a dick, how to swivel and grind to elicit the desired response, and by the looks on both their faces, he taught him well.

Dean hums and stretches out alongside Sam, tucking himself under one arm and sinking his teeth softly into the sharp line of his brother’s jaw, licking at the sweat there. Sam’s arm is tight around Dean's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, but his eyes stay locked firmly on Cas, on the way his head's thrown back as he practically howls with pleasure.

“He looks good on your dick, Sammy.” Dean whispers it softly into Sam’s ear. His brother moans, teeth sinking into his abused lower lip, but Dean's relentless. “God, look at him, taking it like that. Look how good you’re making him feel, Sammy.”

“So good.” Cas arches his back, reaching behind himself to brace his hands on Sam’s thighs. The way he’s bouncing is incredible, dick bobbing obscenely. He’s barely pulling up before he has to slam back down again, not wanting to be empty for even a second. “So big, Sam. This feels -- ah -- perfect.”

“Dean, I can’t -- want it to last, Dean, please.” Sam’s babbling against Dean’s throat, teeth dragging across his skin. He’s clawing marks in Dean’s back, sweat stinging along the thin lines his nails leave behind. “Don’t let me come yet, please. Wanna -- oh fuck, Cas.”

Shit. They look so freaking good like this, both of them: Sam all long limbs and sweat in the hollow of his throat, Cas arched above him like a bird on the verge of taking flight. Like an angel, Dean's brain supplies, and he snorts. Like this, strung out and stuffed full of both of them, there's nothing angelic about Cas at all. Cas is amazing, taking Sam so good, and Dean knows exactly how he feels right now. Something tells him it's only Cas's limited superpowers that have kept him from coming already; and God only knows how Sam's still hanging on. Dean can feel the roots of another orgasm building in his belly, and he's barely been touched, unless you count the way Sam's nails are digging into his back, which, frankly, Dean doesn't think should qualify.

Clearly, Dean needs to kill two birds with one stone here. Dean's starting to feel a little neglected, and Sam's biting his lip and tensing his stomach like he's holding back the universe. The least Dean can do is give him a little something to help him distract himself.

"Hey," he soothes, pulling out of the circle of Sam's arm, laying his hand over Cas's on Sam's chest as he lifts himself up, turns in place. "I got you, Sammy. Doin' so good. Hang on in there, okay?"

"Dean." His name leaves Sam on a twisting groan, everything about it hot and desperate. "I can't -- shit -- Dean, I can't -- "

But can't isn't in Dean's sexual vocabulary, and he cuts in, shushing, as he straddles Sam's shoulders, one hand still flat over Cas's on Sam's sternum. He's turned himself around so his knees point down toward Cas, and he grins down at Sam through the space between his thighs, one last moment of respite. "Sure you can," he tells him, gently. "Gonna give you something else to think about." And he inches his thighs a little wider, lowers himself until Sam gets the picture, dirty moan escaping as his hands come up to Dean's ass, spreading him open.

"Fuck, Dean."

"That's the idea," Dean tells him roughly, voice breaking slightly as Sam cranes up to lick a swipe over the clench of him, practiced and unhesitating. They do this a lot, Sam fucking him open, getting him wet enough that Sam can stuff him full of his kid brother's dick, and Dean knows just what Sam's about to give him; knows just how much Sam will lose himself in it. Enough, maybe, that Cas's heat around his dick will no longer be sufficient to burn him up within seconds, not when Dean's right there to be tongue-fucked till he screams.

And God, he'll scream. Dean can feel it already, cries jolted out of him as Sam licks him messily, pulling Dean open with his thumbs till he can force his tongue through the ring of muscle. Sam's relentless when he does this, always, slick and sloppy and utterly shameless, and Dean thinks it might do the trick. Basically, Dean's ideas are genius.

Dean’s thighs are trembling with the effort it takes to keep himself upright, leaning forward, but it’s worth it when he can get his mouth on Cas’s collarbone and bite. Cas likes to be marked up, even if the bruises fade almost as quickly as they form. Dean sucks, blood rushing to the surface of Cas’s skin as he slides his hand down his flat belly, knocking Cas’s hand away from his dick so he can take it himself. “Mm, Cas, so goddamn hard for us.”

Cas practically keens in Dean’s ear, tossing one arm around his shoulders to use him for leverage, to keep him steady while he thrusts down onto Sam. Dean takes a sharp breath as the sound rushes down his spine. “God. Love taking cock, don’t you, Cas? Had no idea how good you’d take to being stuffed full. Woulda pinned you down and fucked you sooner.”

“</i>Dean</i>.” Cas clutches at the back of his neck and Dean licks at the spot he left on his skin. Cas twists his hips a bit and Sam groans against Dean’s ass, mouth falling open against his slick skin. Dean grinds down, reminds Sam of the task at hand, and lets out a guttural moan of his own when Sam shoves two fingers up his ass, crooks them expertly in a way that makes Dean gasp out a sound he’ll deny to his dying day.

“Yeah, yeah, Sammy, shit. That’s it.” Dean wants to kiss Cas, but there’s no way he could manage it with the way Cas is bouncing on Sam’s dick like he’s getting paid for it.

“I’m close, so close, Sam.” Dean holds the base of Cas’s cock tight in his fist, staving off his orgasm as he grinds back into Sam’s clever fingers.

“Hear that, Sammy? It’s time for you to let go, baby, fill up that tight ass.” Dean swings his leg over Sam’s head, freeing his mouth so he can hear the litany of sounds he’s making. One quick glance at Sam’s face has Dean’s belly tensing, and he quickly looks away to grab Cas by the hips and shove, pinning him down stuffed full of Sam’s cock as he dips his head to pull Cas’s dick into his mouth.

“Oh, oh!” Cas comes hard, flooding Dean’s mouth with so much come that it dribbles out onto his chin. Sam cries out and arches up, grabbing whatever part of Cas and Dean he can reach as his back comes up off of the bed in an obscene curve.

After that, it's kind of a case of every man for himself. They've wound up in some fucked up position, all hands and knees, and Dean's close enough to coming that there's an extra layer of fogginess in his mind, making the whole situation more complicated. Cas is still coming, cock pulled up against his belly, when Dean and his arousal lose their battle against gravity, toppling him onto his back on the bed while Sam groans in his throat, while Cas whimpers on his dick. Shit, but they sound good, his brother and his angel, and Dean's hand drifts to his cock despite himself, wrapping easy and firm around the shaft of it. It won't take much, a soft sound of want spilling out of his mouth as he jacks himself slowly, but God, he needs to come. He needs to come now.

He's just gotten into a rhythm, hand sliding slippery-quick through the mess of his precome, when the bed dips beside him. Dean barely registers the shift at first, but then Sam's hand is curling over Dean's on his cock; Cas is leaning in, mouthing at the sweat-sticky bolt of Dean's jaw, and Dean jerks upward, head falling back as he lets them take him over.

"Fuck, Dean." Sam's voice is lazy, rough and fucked out, the way he sounds when he's spent the evening choking on Dean's dick. It's the way he sounds, too, though, when he's sated, and Dean feels his body straining towards the warmth of it, the familiar intimacy. He knows Sam's hand, by now, as well as he knows his own; Sam's hand on his dick, Sam's long fingers crooking up into his body, triggering an involuntary clench, and Dean's on the edge even before Cas shifts, leaning down to mouth at the tip of Dean's cock.

"Shit," Dean whispers, too strung out to manage anything more vocal, "Jesus -- Cas --" and then Cas's mouth is there, sinking down on him, wet heat everywhere, and Dean is gone. Sam's in him, around him, the ring of his fingers sliding up to meet Cas's mouth as it descends, and Dean can't hold together like this between them, not when they're so effortlessly taking him apart. "Shit." Orgasm arrows out from his stomach, out through his dick, and then Cas is choking around gobs of his come and swallowing anyway, little bobs of his head even as it dribbles from the corners of his mouth, and holy Jesus.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," he manages, and it's almost a sob as his body uncurls and collapses back onto the bed, one hand cupping the nape of Cas's neck. "I can't -- I -- "

"Good, Dean?" Sam interrupts, because he's a cheeky fucker, and Dean thinks he's never loved him more.

“Passable,” Dean says with a smirk and a shrug, but the graveled tone of his voice and the way his chest is heaving up and down says it was so much more than that. Dean grabs the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him down roughly, grinding the knuckles of his fist into his brother’s ribs until Sam hisses and sinks his teeth into Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, Sammy. You’re better than that.”

Sam huffs and tucks himself in against Dean’s side, slinging one of his stupidly long legs over Dean’s thigh. Dean turns to smile indulgently at Castiel, crooking his fingers until he can reach Cas’s neck and pull him in. Slow, lazy strokes of Dean’s tongue on his lips and chin until he’s clean and then he presses his lips to Cas’s, soft and slow, licking his way inside.

Cas settles on top of him, pressing his hand against the sweaty mess on his chest while Sam’s hair tickles his neck. They’re sweaty, wet, and gross -- all sticky with come and spit, and then, well, then they’re not. Dean hums his thanks into Cas’s mouth, tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair, now clean and soft.

It’s so convenient, suddenly being clean like this, that when it’s just Sam and Dean they usually grapple over the wet spot, grumbling as they drag themselves into the shower if they’re not too fucked out to get out of bed. It’s better when Cas is here, because they can just sink down, sated and spent, into warm, clean sheets. Then there’s the added bonus of Cas actually being there, pressing his puffy, kiss-swollen lips indolently against their skin.

Sam’s halfway down the road to knocked out, curled up against Dean in way that doesn’t usually happen until they’re both asleep. Cas lets out a soft sigh and twists like he’s going to roll away, but Dean keeps his arm locked firm around Cas’s waist.

“Don’t think so, man.” Dean doesn’t look at Cas, keeps his eyes closed and his face casual. “You’re stayin’ here tonight.”

“I am?” Cas asks, but he doesn’t exactly sound opposed to the idea. Dean just quirks one corner of his mouth up into a little smirk and slides his hand up into Cas’s hair, tugging him back down against him.

“Hell yeah. I didn’t get fucked tonight, and that just ain’t gonna stand.”

“Slut,” Sam murmurs against Dean’s shoulder. Dean huffs a breath of laughter. He’d thought Sam had fallen asleep. But no, he’s awake, smiling idiotically against Dean’s neck. Dean pinches his hip and groans out a yawn. “Stay, Cas.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, smiling when Cas settles his head on Dean’s bare chest. “And in a few hours we can introduce you to morning sex.”

Cas hums thoughtfully like that’s definitely something to consider, and Dean’s smiling when he falls asleep.


[sequel: run right into you]
Tags: collab, dean/sam/castiel, fic, like a slow fire burn, supernatural, we crash and we roll

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