Archive of Our Own

Benny frowns thoughtfully. “What if I want to slap it?”

“What?” Dean says.

“His dick.” Benny grins. “What if I want to slap his dick? Get it a little confused, see if the mast needs some rigging.”

“Dude. That’s cheesy, even for you.” Of course Benny wouldn’t be like Sam, who’d sputtered, or like Victor, who’d gone quiet and respectful, when Dean told them the rules. That was a while back, though. Sam and Victor are veterans at this now, though Victor is smirking behind his beer because it’s always interesting to watch the new guy settle.

“It’s all right, I hear ya,” Benny says. “No touching the safety rail.”

“You can slap it with something else,” Dean suggests. He is generous with his buddies, after all. “No skin on skin.”

Benny nods. “Outstanding.”

This is movie night at Dean’s place. Just a bunch of guys hanging out with a good movie, good food and a good fucktoy, and it’s been enough of a success to make it a regular thing. Previously it’d just been the three of them – Sam, Victor and Dean, their host – but Benny’s a promising fourth. Dean knows Benny understands what a big deal getting this invitation is, so the challenge isn’t so much in seeing if Benny can roll with the rules, but that Dean’s guests can all get along.

“Can I slap it?” Victor echoes mockingly, though he moves over when Benny joins him on the touch. “What’d you expect, an arcade? Shove a couple of coins up his ass and see what lights up?”

“I just want to see what my options are,” Benny says with a laugh. “So… what are we watching?”

Yeah, like Benny’s actually wondering about the movie when his gaze has drifted over to the other seat, where Sam has his fly open and a face in his crotch. Sam’s eyes are half-closed, his mouth is open and his hands clutching the armrests. Dean’s gotten over feeling weird about watching his brother get off because, well.

Because that’s a very naked Cas kneeling between Sam’s knees. White rope knotted around his neck and arms and down between his legs, the delicate loops keeping his arms behind his backs. Cas is gorgeous like this, eyes closed and knees apart to keep himself balanced, and he’s definitely deserving of the slow, speculative way Benny is watching him breathe around Sam’s cock.

Dean catches Victor smirking at him. Dean snorts; it’s like Victor doesn’t even remember the first time he’d been invited. How he’d been as bowled over as Benny is now, how his hands had fumbled when he’d tried to open his pants – and failed, by the way, which had left Sam to help out because Dean had been too busy enjoying the show.

“The Godfather, coming right up,” Dean says cheerfully, moving over to pop the DVD in.

By the time it’s up and running Sam’s already thrusting, hands cupped around Cas’ head to keep him still. Dean moves around the back of the chairs so he can see Cas’ face – half to check the expression on Cas’ face and half to watch his mouth fit around the thick meat of a cock.

Cas’ eyes are blank, distant. It’ll be a while yet before they turn glassy and unfocused, but right now he’s just a face to be fucked. Lips snug around the shaft sliding between them.

“There’s beers, if you want,” Dean says. He taps Benny on the shoulder, snickering when Benny jumps and has to drag his eyes away from the show a couple of feet away. “Beer, do you want one?”

“Sure,” Benny says, far too quickly. “Uh, are we allowed to touch ourselves?”

“The hell do I care what you wanna do with yourself,” Dean replies. “The rules are for Cas. Suck your own dicksicle if that’s what you want to do. Lube under the table if you need it.”

In the kitchen, Dean can hear Victor say to Benny, “You act like you’ve never seen a blowjob before.”

“I seen plenty, my friend. It’s just… it’s like he’s not even Castiel. He’s so…”

Docile. The word Benny’s looking for is docile. Dean grins at fridge.

Outside it’s Sam who replies, sounding rather breathless. “This is Cas. It’s just the part of him that, oh… The part of him that Dean gets to see.”

“And share,” Victor adds, “if he wants. Hey, where the hell’s the remote?”

“On the table next to you,” Dean says, coming back into the living area. “Try looking for it with your eyes.” Dean hands Benny his beer, unsurprised when the guy manages to open the bottle without taking his eyes off of Sam and Cas.

Victor once asked Dean what he gets out of this. Other hands on your guy, doesn’t that bug you? The question doesn’t make sense because it may not be his cock in Cas’ mouth, or his hands that are now pushing Cas away and flipping him over so his face drops to the soft carpet below, but it’s because of Dean that is Cas so pliant.

It’s Dean that keeps Cas unresponsive when Sam drops to his knees behind him. There’s an expectant pause when Sam lines his cock up, and then a grunt when said cock is shoved in. That noise comes from Sam, though. Cas doesn’t need a gag to be quiet because he has Dean under his skin, invisible knots tied alongside the hemp ones.

Dean never stops touching Cas. He’s always with Cas because Cas allowed him in, taught him that there’s nothing wrong with wanting him like this, nothing wrong with giving Castiel what he wants just as badly.

“Get on it, you wuss,” Victor chides, smacking Benny lightly on the shoulder. “You can take his mouth now. You’ve been looking at it enough.”

Benny hesitates, eyes flickering back to Dean, who can only just smile. Victor grumbles under his breath and slides off the couch on to the floor.

Cas can’t prop himself up with his arms bound, so Sam gets twists his hand around the knotted handle on his back and pulls. Cas’ shoulders are dragged up off the carpet, head hanging forward and limp. Yeah, Sam likes to show off, too, barely even pausing as he grinds into the warmth of that gorgeous ass.

“C’mon.” Victor cups Cas’ chin to tilt his face up. He presses a finger against Cas’ mouth, smiling when it opens under the slight pressure. “Nice and warm.”

“Don’t know, man,” Benny says, “not sure I wanna go anywhere near his teeth. He was pretty mad last time I saw him.”

“That’s outside,” Dean tells Benny. “This is inside. Use his mouth.”

Victor sighs. “Screw it.” He pops the button of his pants open and pulls out his dick. “You snooze, you lose. Open up, Cas.”

It’s only an illusion that Cas obeys Victor because he says so. He doesn’t need any such orders, or even responds to such orders. He has been willing since earlier that the evening when Dean twined the rope around his torso and tapped him once on the forehead. Since then his mouth has been lax, patient, willing. Now it swallows around the cock that Victor feeds him, throat working around the intrusion it’s made for. Cas is being fucked at both ends but he eyes are half-lidded and his mind somewhere else – some other place that only Dean can bring him back from.

“You hard, brother?” Benny asks quietly.

“Not important,” Dean replies. He’d fucked Cas last night, then made Cas suck him off this morning. This isn’t about him getting off now, anyway. He never comes while he’s a host, because that’s only for Cas to see.

Victor sighs. “Gonna go deeper.” That’s kind of him to say, but unnecessary. That mouth doesn’t need a warning, because its purpose is just to take cocks. That mouth sheathes them, accepts them, and drinks anything they want to give it.

“Here,” Sam says, offering a deliberate thrust that has Cas rolling forward between their bodies. Those plush lips swallow, stayingcompletely soundless when Victor’s balls knock against its chin.

Benny groans and palms his crotch. Dean takes a gulp of his beer.

“You might want to finish off soon,” Sam hisses. His adjusts his hold on the ropes, Cas bobbing weakly between them like a moored boat. “I, uh. My arm’s getting tired.”

“You finish off soon,” Victor retorts. “I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m serious, man.”

Dean steps forward. He stands between his guests and takes the rope from Sam, carefully twisting it around his hands so that Cas hangs neatly between his users. The view’s great from here, too, because he can see Sam and Victor sliding into Cas at the same time.

This is another reason he does this. He loves to use both of Castiel’s holes at the same time – get Cas strapped to the machine while Dean fucks his mouth, or the other way around – but sometimes distance is its own reward. Sometimes Dean wants Cas to be used and not be distracted by his own need to come. He wants to bask in Cas’ obedience, hoard it, savor it, soak it up like fuel for when they next play together alone.

“Can you just, uh…” Sam rolls his shoulder, relieved that Dean’s taken over holding Cas up, and smiles sheepishly. “This is my favorite part, just – just give me a moment?” He turns to the TV. Kid always had a soft spot for Al Pacino.

“No problem,” Dean replies. Sam is still useful as an anchor, propping up Cas’ ass while Victor continues to fuck his mouth. Victor’s little hitching movements grow more erratic as he nears orgasm, and Dean helpfully grabs a handful of Cas’ hair to yank his face upward a little, giving Victor a better angle.

“Thanks,” Victor gasps. He’s still got his hands on Cas’ face to brace himself, flat of his stomach almost knocking Cas’ nose. Victor’s close, grin getting wider as he slowly gets there.

“Hey.” Benny’s finally joined them on the floor, opening the cuffs of his sleeves when he settles next to Dean. “Sam, if you’re not gonna use him, can I…?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sam pulls out. A little too fast than Dean likes. It leaves Cas’ hole wanting, so Dean smacks it lightly.

“Whoa,” Victor gasps. He shakes his head. “Okay, that was a good one.”

“Coming in,” Benny announces. He exchanges a quick look with Dean, who nods. Benny’s dick is thick, different from Dean’s, curved more at the end like Victor’s. It’s already coated with lube and flush in Benny’s palm; nice to know he’s enjoying himself. Benny gives it a few pulls while Dean taps his palm against Cas’ hole – just to keep it warmed up for his buddy. “Here we go,” Benny says, pressing the head of his cock against the pucker.

Benny knows Cas outside. Well, all of them do, but Cas has friction with Benny that he doesn’t have with Victor and Sam. Dean thinks that Benny hasn’t really computed what he’s been offered tonight, not until this very moment when he’s sliding deep into that blinding hot fuckhole Dean’s spent long hours mapping to the best of his ability.

“Open him up for me,” Dean says. “I want to see.”

Benny complies, hands taking a butt cheek each and pushing them apart. Cas’ opening is pink around where the shaft glides in and out of him, but the blush is because it’s busy, not because it’s resisting. Fucking gorgeous, is what it is, so sweet and warm and meant to be filled up. Benny’s dick is just doing Dean a favor, really.

Dean wonders whether Cas has to adjust to a different cock. Does he notice it’s a different cock? He’s said before that he does sometimes – Sam’s longer than anyone here, for example, and he can tell the difference between him and Dean even when he’s wearing blindfolds and ear plugs. Do Cas’ insides ache when he changes from a longer dick to a shorter one, the deepest parts of him no longer soothed by the brush of a cockhead?

Jesus. Dean exhales slowly, clamping down on the warmth curling low in his groin.

He adjusts his hold on the rope, and Cas bounces, very minutely, but it’s enough for Benny and Victor to let out nearly identical moans.

“Gonna come, Dean,” Victor breathes. His thrusts are stronger now, shoving Cas back on to Benny’s cock.

“Yeah, go for it.” Dean leans down. The angle is awkward but he can hold Cas up with one hand for a while, using his now free one to slide under Cas’ throat. Not squeezing, though. Just cupping Cas’ Adam’s apple in command – swallow it – while Victor hisses and comes.

Cas swallows.

“Holy mother,” Benny mutters, staring at Victor. Dean feels warm all over. He always does, whenever his guests are pleased.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Victor clears his throat, and carefully pulls out of Cas. “You want me to take over?”

“Nah, you chill,” Dean says amiably. He strokes the back of Cas’ neck affectionately, and then stands back up. “I can do this for a while.”

Sam knee-walks back towards them. Marlon Brando’s on now, which is some of Dean’s favorite parts but he’s seen this movie goodness knows how many times already. “Okay,” Sam says, “can I come back in now?” He starts to move towards Cas’ head.

“Dude!” Dean exclaims. “You’re not putting that in his mouth. You’ve picked your ride, wait until Benny’s had his turn.”

“Uh.” Benny grins sheepishly. “I just to stay with him like this. For a while. If that’s okay?”

Interesting. Benny wants to relish this.

Sam, once he’d gotten over his hang-ups, had gone to town on Cas, manhandling him on to his lap, on a table, up against the wall, et cetera. Inviting your brother to fuck your plus one means getting to know the likes and dislikes of said brother’s sex life in great detail, but it was all worth it and then some for, one, how Cas had thanked Dean for it afterward, and, two, how Sam tried to apologize for being ‘rough’ on Cas the next day. As if anything Sam did or could do to Cas would come anywhere near what Dean’s done to him.

Victor, on the other hand. The first couple of times they’d gotten together, he’d tried to get Cas to respond. He’d played with Cas’ nipples, deliberately aimed for prostate, whispered filthy things in his ear all in an effort to rile Cas up. As if he wanted to test Dean’s rules himself, see how they’d hold. Cas had behaved beautifully.

Then there’s Benny, who’s apparently going his own way in getting used to what Dean’s giving him. It hasn’t missed Dean’s attention that Benny is slowly petting Cas’ thigh, the way you would a skittish animal.

It’s like Dean’s some kind of genius or something. He gets to watch Cas be forced into various different boxes, then unpack him when it’s all over.

“Sam wants to finish up,” Dean says, and over Benny’s shoulder Sam sighs in relief. “You can still play with him, but we’ll do it like this.”

It takes some effort, but they manage to move over to the couch. Benny settles in the middle, braced by cushions on either side, while Dean carefully arranges Cas in his lap, Cas’ back to Benny’s front. Dean loosens some of the knots, kneading the muscles in Cas’ arms to make sure he’s comfortable – not that anyone else would be able to tell from Cas’ expression, still near-perfectly blank – and then guides Benny’s hands through the loops so he can touch Cas’ chest.

“That good? His butt not crushing the family jewels?” Dean asks. Benny nods silently, fingers twitching. Dean huffs under his breath and grabs one of Benny’s hands, pushing it up so he’s covering Cas’ nipple. “There.”

“Oh,” Benny says. “Yes. Yes, thank you.”

Dean sits next to Benny, just close enough so that he hold Cas’ right leg open. Cas’ cock is still resting against his stomach, held in place by the ribbons, and that leaves access to his entrance wide open for Sam’s use.

“Cool,” Sam says. He comes in, licking his lips, one hand holding Cas’ other leg open. He has to shimmy downwards to get the right angle – serves him right for being so damn tall – and then slides right on in.

This position means that Dean gets to watch Cas’ face. Not that Dean minds not being able to catch Cas’ every tell – hard to watch a guy’s eyes when they’re face-down and being spanked – but on the occasions where it’s possible, he enjoys it.

He’d enjoyed it when he’d first gotten to know Cas, when he’d first started sleeping with Cas, when he’d first noticed that there were things Cas wanted that he hadn’t been able to voice entirely before.

When they aren’t playing, Cas doesn’t look this when he’s being fucked. He pants, his eyelids flutter, he tries to hitch his hips to find a rhythm he likes. Now, with Sam pistoning into him like it’s going out of style, Cas offers none of those responses. Cas is marvelous, really. You wouldn’t guess the guy has the will of a minor god when he wants to challenge himself.

“Can you move him forward a little?” Sam asks breathlessly. “Easier for me to get in.”

Benny murmurs his assent, and carefully nudges Cas’ ass further forward on his lap. Benny’s a big old softie, too, nuzzling Cas’ ear and whispering praise while Sam uses his ass.

Dean lets his eyes roam over the feast. Cas’ dick, stiffening a bit in its web, but calm. Cas’ hole, clenching now that Sam’s fucking him good. Cas’ eyes, gazing off into the middle distance where they’d earlier been looking at forever. Cas’s eyes fall shut.

“No.” Dean smacks Cas’ balls. Just two fingers in a warning, and Cas’ eyes fly back open. He doesn’t say a word, but the apology is clear in the way his stomach visibly tightens. Not so expressionless anymore. “You want to go somewhere else, you do it on your own time.”

Benny makes a questioning sound. “Is that necessary?”

“Yes,” Dean says. “You want to smack his dick? I can roll up a magazine for you.” There are other things that can be used, but Dean would rather no one else touch them.

“I don’t exactly have a good view from here,” Benny says. “Could hit your brother by mistake.”

Sam laughs – almost a giggle, really – though he doesn’t pause the rolling of his hips against Cas. “That’s nice of you.”

“He smells good,” Benny says, almost wistfully. His thumbs keep working Cas’ nipples, stubbornly trying to milk what they can’t give. “Never thought I’d get to do this without getting his fist in my face.”

“Hey,” Dean laughs. “Cas doesn’t think you’re that much of a loser.” From the other chair Victor snickers under his breath. Dean insists, “No, really. He wouldn’t have okay-ed you comin’ tonight otherwise.”

Actually Dean isn’t sure that last part’s entirely true.

If Victor and Benny don’t entirely get the separation of inside and out, they’d understand even less the separation that goes on in Cas’ head.

Almost as if Cas can hear Dean thinking, his mouths falls open a little. Just a sliver of space that hints at the warmth within. Maybe Sam’s nailing his prostate, maybe a part of Cas has noticed what Dean isn’t saying.

“Other people become… objects,” Cas had told him when they’d talked about it.Well, one of the many times they’d talked about it. “That’s all they are, all that I see and feel. They are mere extensions of your hands, your body. Like the rope, the bullet, the ring. All for your use.”

“Our use,” Dean had corrected him, though he’d also been startled that they’d come to the same conclusion albeit from different directions. There’s a feedback loop between them, whether they’re touching directly or not. Cas gets off being watched, wanted, used. He gets off being important for Dean’s pleasure, which he is, Jesus fucking Christ.

Cas knows Dean’s watching him. He’s not looking at Dean – he’s not supposed to look directly at anyone until he gets permission – but Dean can feel Cas’ attention focused solely on him, no matter that there’s another guy pinching his tits and another guy’s dick up inside him.

Speaking of which, Sam’s about to blow. He’s rocking into Cas now, cursing under his breath and forcing Benny to hold on to Cas’ torso so he doesn’t fall over from the sheer force of Sam’s thrusts.

“Yeah,” Sam groans. Two more pushes and he’s done, hips wedged up tight in the V of Cas’ legs as he blows his load.

Dean’s an awesome brother. Not just because he always does Sam the favor of not mocking the hell out of his O face, but also because he gives little bonuses. Like now, for example, he gives Cas’ cockhead a neat little smack with his palm, and Sam honest to god squeaks.

“Tight!” Sam yelps. He’s not pulling away, though. “Tight, tight, shit.”

Cas gasps, but very very softly. Dean gives the mushroom head another little knock, and this time Cas knows better to make no sound, though he can’t help blurting pre-come on to Dean’s fingers.

“What?” Dean says, when he sees Benny giving him a look. “You put the idea in my head. Okay, Sam, move over, it’s Benny’s turn. Victor, you wanna give a hand or you too busy trying to pretend you’re actually watching the movie?” Victor flips him off but gets to his feet.

Sam slips out of Cas, and Dean immediately covers the flushed hole with his hand to keep the come inside. With Victor here, it’s easy to lift Cas up. Not too far; just enough to maneuver him on to the next dick he has to service. Dean’s careful to get the angle right, making sure the head of Benny’s cock is lined up before nodding at Victor and letting gravity do its job. Cas falls back down on Benny’s lap, swallowing his cock easy as butter.

“Fuck,” Benny says. He shifts a little, getting comfortable with a lapful of Cas. He laughs, almost hysterically. “Oh, okay. So that’s what it feels like to fuck through another man’s come.”

“See,” Victor says, nudging Sam with his foot. “if you hadn’t been distracted, we could’ve blown our loads in Cas together. Remember that time when he got confused and couldn’t swallow properly? That was fun.”

Sam bats at Victor weakly from where he’s sprawled out on the floor.

Victor turns back to Benny, who has tightened his hold around Cas.

“What?” Benny says, almost defensively.

“You just gonna let him sit on you?” Victor asks. “I mean, sure, I’m not judging, but… that’s what does it for you?”

“I’m comfortable,” Benny mutters.

“Cockwarming,” Dean offers. “You know, if you wanted a name for it.”

Victor raises an eyebrow. “Of course you’d know that, Dean. Me, I just like an old-fashioned rimming.” He turns back to Benny, smiling slowly. “You cool with that?”

“Thank you,” Benny scoffs, “but no thank you.”

“Not you, him.” Victor sinks down – Dean always surprised how graceful Victor is when he wants to be – to rest between Benny’s knees and push Cas’ thighs apart. Cas shaved this morning so his skin’s nice and smooth, and Dean totally doesn’t blame Victor for the way he keeps touching him. “Happens that your schlong’s in the way.”

“Well, pardon me,” Benny says.

“Look,” Victor says, “I just want to lick his damn hole. Say no if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Benny blinks a few times. He glances at Dean, who is happily enjoying a boner that doesn’t need any attention, and then at Sam, who is smiling goofily at the ceiling. Dean can almost see Benny reviewing the events of the evening, and how what Victor wants to do arises naturally from the pages of what they’ve done so far.

“All right,” Benny says at last. He sounds intrigued, even. “I don’t mind.”

Dean loves his front row seats. Cas’ thighs have to be aching from the effort of keeping himself open, but Dean guesses it’s a good, pleasurable burn. Cas seems to be waiting for it, breathless even as he tries to focus his gaze on the opposite wall.

Sam whimpers from the floor when Victor lowers finally his head into the crevice between Benny and Cas’ legs. Dean has the strangest urge to peer out from between his fingers when Victor’s tongue comes out to lap firmly at the skin of Cas’ hole, made taut by the cock stuffed in it.

“Dean,” Sam says quietly. “You are a bad, bad man, Dean.”

Dean grins. “Shut up, bitch.”

“This isn’t funny, you jerk,” Sam hisses, hand covering his crotch. They both fall quiet – someone’s muted the TV, which makes the lewd noises Victor’s making between Cas’ legs all the louder. Sam whines. “I’m going to chafe, Dean.”

“Then take a walk.” Dean creeps forward a little to catch the faint glint of Sam’s come leaking out from Cas’ opening, over Benny’s dick, and into Victor’s mouth. Dean thinks there should be a guitar solo to mark the momentous occasion. “You think you’re chafing? What do you think’s happening to Cas?”

“But you put him through his paces rest of the time,” Victor says, and Dean almost yells at him to keep going. Victor drags his lips over Cas’ perineum, sucking firmly, and that must make Cas clench down in interesting ways because Benny’s thighs visibly quiver. Victor smirks and runs his finger over the rim. “He’s not all that swollen yet.”

Cas is blinking rapidly now. A trickle of sweat slowly makes it way down his neck. Dean knows that if he puts his hand on Cas’ stomach he’d feel the muscles there clenching, trying to force his body to remember its orders.

His dick’s definitely interested, too, the head flushed and thickening where it’s visible at the end of its glove of ribbons. Not all the way hard but definitely starting its downward (upward?) spiral, and Dean has to wonder whether it’s the tongue or the cock that’s doing it for him. Dean’s kinks are only rivaled by Cas’, and it’s a freaking miracle they haven’t uncovered all of each other’s yet.

Victor keeps working and Benny starts cursing, and Dean’s not even touching anyone but he can feel the buzz ratcheting up under his skin. It’s like the air between him and Cas charges up with shared arousal, slipping pleasure through Dean’s pores and into his blood. His eyes are getting dry because he doesn’t want to blink, afraid to miss any moment of this. They don’t record their sessions because that’d make things complicated, but he wishes.

“Jesus.” Benny pants heavily, eyes rolling back. “This is unholy. Nothing should feel like… like this. Dean. Dean, I want to feel him come.”

Sam huffs. “You’ve forgotten the rules already?”

“Dean.” Benny reaches blindly for Dean, eyes wild and getting wilder. “Dean, please, I would very much like to know what it feels like when he comes.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Dean says. “Number one rule for Cas is that he only comes with me.”

“So?” Benny bleats. “So what?”

Dean pauses, suddenly thoughtful. He looks at Victor, who’s flicking the tip of his tongue against Cas’ rim, moaning his own pleasure at the action. He looks at Benny, who’s usually unflappable but now unraveling. He looks at Sam, who’s gingerly trying to jerk himself off.

He looks at Cas, whose eyes are dark and neck muscles taut from the effort of holding himself still.

“Put a finger in him,” Dean finds himself saying. Victor glances over at Dean, who nods firmly. “Wet it up if you need to, then put it in.”

Benny chokes. “Your brother’s right. You’re a cruel man, Dean.”

Victor does as Deans says. Sam passes him the lube, which Victor uses to slick up his fingers, and then he’s prodding at Cas’ opening. Victor’s got his problem-solving frown on, Tab C to join Tab B, changing the angle of his fingers this way and that until he finds one that can slip the tip of his finger just in.

Cas’ mouth falls open. Wordlessly, but it’s enough.

“He’s good,” Dean says. “Benny, you good?”

“Tickles,” Benny says thickly. “Kind of.”

Victor pushes that finger in, one knuckle and then another disappearing into the depths of Cas’ body. Dean can’t tell if Victor’s worried about Cas or enjoying the moment, but he sure is taking his time fingering Cas open. More open.

It takes Dean a while to realize that he’s tensed up, arms crossed and clutching at himself. The restless itch in his blood has thickened into something more volatile, expectant. “Two fingers,” he says. “He can take it.” Victor complies.

Cas blinks slowly, which is possibly deliberate because he isn’t allowed to close his eyes. Does he want to pull away, or shove down harder? The joy is in finding out, where Dean tries to decipher every breath, every wince, every shudder.

Dean takes hold of Cas’ jaw. Cas’ eyes roll a little, a reflex action as he struggles to hold on. “Is he full?” Dean asks.

“Yeah,” Victor says quietly. He’s still sliding his fingers in and out, though, keeping Benny’s cock company where it’s sheathed. “Yeah.”

“Not full enough,” Dean declares. “Scoot.”

Somewhere in the background Sam whispers a confused, “What.” Dean ignores that, slapping Cas’ inner thigh so he gets with the program and gives Dean the space he needs to fit in here.

For the first time this evening, Dean opens his fly. He’s surprised by how hard he is, erection thick in his hand when he holds it. He never touches himself while he’s seeing to his guests, content to wait until they’re alone before releasing the accumulated hunger of the evening. This is new but welcome, and definitely still in their parameters.

Dean’s eyes are on Cas, but the next statement is for Benny: “I’m assuming you still don’t mind company?”

“I certainly don’t,” Benny replies. “Yes.”

They’ve done before, he and Cas, but not with the others, and definitely not with another real dick in play. There’s a first time for everything, though, and Dean can’t help grinning when he sees Cas tense up expectantly. That’s as good as screaming for it as far as Cas is concerned.

It takes a while to line up. Cas’ entrance is slippery with lube and come, and the catch isn’t as easy when there’s already someone in the driver’s seat. Dean’s determined, though, holding his dick steady and pushing, pushing, pushing against Cas and Benny until something gives and the head pops in.

Benny curses furiously, some of it not in English.

Sliding into Cas is like finding that last, elusive itch and digging your nails in. The resistance is momentary, Cas’ body slowly opening up for Dean as if this is Cas’ first fuck of the day instead of his third. Or is it fourth?

“Okay,” Victor pipes up, “next time, I’m calling dibs.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Sam protests. “I’m family.”

“You’re too big, is what you are,” Victor says. “No way you can fit in there.”

Dean rubs Cas’ shoulder in steady, soothing strokes. Over said shoulder Benny’s glassy-eyed and shocked, all his dreams come true and then some.

More importantly, Cas is trembling. His teeth are practically chattering together, and his breath is coming out in quick, helpless gasps. Dean cups the side of his face, sliding through sweat until he can rub his thumb at the corner of Cas’ eyes. Cas exhales, almost explosive in his relief, and then those blues of his lock on Dean’s.

Hello, Dean.

God, yeah, he knows this. Well, the sensation of another dick tucked alongside Dean’s own is new, but he’s definitely familiar with panicked, desperate look in Cas’ eyes. This is how he gets when he’s overwhelmed before he’s ready.

“Let me in.” Dean tugs one of Cas’ nipples, the skin pink thanks to Benny’s pinching it. “You take what I give you, or you’re no use to me. Open up.”

Cas takes a deep breath, and then tries to relax. His passage may be nice and wet but it’s still too tight – Dean almost slips out entirely when he pulls back, and has to firmly push his way back in. He can’t get too deep like this, but it’s apparently deep enough to have Cas clenching his jaw and frantically swallowing a sob.

Dean glances down. Cas is all the way to hard now, his cock neglected and leaking precome on his stomach. Dean tries to imagine how spread open Cas must feel, how the stretch and burn must be like having a whole hand up there, sliding through Sam’s come.

A few experimental thrusts and then it’s just gorgeous, Cas’ body was obviously meant for this just the way it’s meant for everything they’ve done before and will do after.

Cas gets off on being wanted, but Dean does, too. Dean loves that Cas wants him so badly that he’s shaking in Benny’s arms, poker face ripped up and thrown away, tears flooding the corners of his eyes. Dean loves that Cas sees and feels nothing but him, he is Cas’ whole world, Cas wants to please him with everything he has.

Dean dips his head to take a kiss, Cas’ mouth trembling under his. Dean stays there for a moment, sighing at the animal-distressed gasps Cas is making against his lips.

“So hot,” Dean breathes. He kisses Cas again, slow and hot as he rolls his hips up into Cas’ body. Benny’s doing the anchor work here, framing Cas’ body inside and out in keeping him in place, and that’s just perfect. Dean can’t fuck him very hard, but he doesn’t have to because every slow glide of his cock in has Cas swallowing frantically.

It gets even better when the first tears fall loose, trailing down his cheeks despite Cas’ amazing, wonderful willpower. He’s straining so hard for Dean, willing the orgasm back, back, stay back.

That’s a miracle in itself, really. Cas is so fucking turned on that he can come just from this, stretched raw and filthy and used, when Dean’s barely doing much more than being there for him.

Dean kisses him again, though this time he rests his hand gently on Cas’ throat. Two taps to his pulse point, there’s a pause while Cas registers the touch, and then Cas is coming.

Dean can almost hear the snap – not literally, he doesn’t think – of Cas’ body unlocking itself. Cas is crying out, sobbing, wailing a flurry of useless sounds that has a Dean in there somewhere because it always does. His body archs up, his legs kicking in the air and toes curling, ass clenching down so hard that Dean snarls, it’s as if Cas thinks he can take even more than two cocks and love it.

It doesn’t take too much effort to hold Cas down. He’s thrashing, but an arm across his collarbone is enough to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself as he rushes through his orgasm. It’s a good one, too, and Dean remembers his audience enough to feel a jolt of selfish glee that this is the first time all of them, veterans included, are seeing this.

Yeah, Dean knows he’s a bastard and a show-off.

“Jesus Christ,” someone mutters at Dean’s back. Victor, maybe.

The next part, though. Dean enjoys so many things about being with Cas, but this next part still makes him breathless.

Cas calms down, the pinch easing away from the edges of his eyes. And then, and then, Cas takes one deep breath, releases it, and opens his eyes again. Cas’ gaze is calm and steady, as though those last few minutes had been nothing more than a fevered dream.

“Cas.” Dean kisses quickly, partly to enjoy how soft Cas feels when he’s wrung out, and partly to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. This particular audience would use it against him, if he did.

Benny makes a small, helpless noise. Dean pulls away, asking, “You okay, buddy?” He finally registers the new wetness inside Cas, because apparently Benny came during that last whirl. Awesome. “I’m gonna get Cas off of you, gimme a sec.”

The rope slips down Cas’ shoulders easily enough when Dean undoes a couple of key points. Cas follows the ritual, arms up and head ducked while Dean unwraps him. Through it all Cas’ eyes follows his face, dropping down only when Dean eases out of his ass, still hard. 

“Turns over,” Dean says. There are towels on the coffee table, and Dean grabs one to clean Cas’ stomach and between his legs. Another two of towels are currently in Sam and Victor’s laps, because they’re sitting side by side on the floor, watching them in such a way that Dean’s actually disappointed that he didn’t get any applause.

“Why didn’t you mention that was on the table?” Victor asks. “I’m serious, Dean. Next time, I’m on that.”

“We’ll see,” Dean says with a grin. “Okay, I’m gonna tuck Cas in. Sam, show Benny where the bathroom is. Benny, get cleaned up, you don’t want to get crusty. And don’t use up all the goddamn soap, Victor, I know it was you last time.”

It takes some effort to get his erection back in his pants, but Dean manages it. If Cas has the willpower, then so does Dean, and he can make the slow trek back to their bedroom with a limping Cas in tow.

Once in the privacy of their room, Dean carefully sets Cas down on the bed and massages his arms again. “You good?” Cas nods. “Hurt anywhere that I should look at right now?” A head-shake. “Do you want a drink?” A thoughtful frown that has Dean immediately getting water from the bathroom to give Cas.

Dean checks the rope burns while Cas drinks. The marks are mild, and can probably still be played with later.

Cas puts the glass on the table and turns to Dean patiently.

“Do you want something?” Dean asks.

Cas opens his arms.

Dean sighs, but he goes in. Of course he goes in, because Cas being a freaking octopus is just part of the package. Cas’ buries his face into the crevice of Dean’s neck, breathing deeply while Dean rubs his back. Dean figures he can spare a minute or to indulge him while the guys clean up. He does like the way Cas’ finger dig into the back of his shirt, among other things.

Dean pats Cas’ waist gently. “Okay, I have to go—”

Something catches behind his knee. The world tilts, Dean finds himself flat on his back on the bed, and then there’s Cas, who practically jumps on top of him like a cat. A goddamned naked cat with bondage rope burns and swollen nipples.

“Cas…” Dean warns. He bats Cas’ hands away from his pants and tries to sit up. “Cas, we have guests. Cas.”

It’s like both of them have switches. On, off, soft, hard. It’s true that Dean knows how to and often does flick the ones in Cas’ head, but sometimes Cas flicks back. Sometimes Cas’ eyes go alight with something close to mischief, adrenaline and want making Cas’ teeth look sharper in the muted light of their bedroom. Cas pulls his fly open, hand pulling Dean’s erection free.

“Cas!” Dean snarls. It feels like anger but it’s not real anger. This is the blunt kind, the domesticated kind. It’s the heart-thumping rush of blood that has Dean tipping Cas over and shoving at him, twisting Cas’ arm behind his back and sending his palm down onto Cas’ ripe ass with a hard smack.

“Oh,” Cas gasps. He wriggles, trying to get away, bad Cas, and Dean smacks him again.

Other cheek. Right cheek, left cheek, and back to right when Cas tries to shove him off. Cas’ face is mashed into the sheets and there’s a rumbling sound low in chest at every slap, something rough and fierce like laughter growled out through gritted teeth.

One part of Dean’s mind hears Cas’ pleasure and is pleased; the other part tells him to shove Cas’ knees apart and slap him harder.

“You think you can get me to fuck you?” Dean says. “Huh? You think I’ll want you when you’re sloppy and loose? Look at you.” He parts Cas’ ass cheeks and runs a thumb over the swollen hole, the occasional drop of come leaking down to the bed. “Fucking filthy. You think I want this?”

Goodness knows how Cas does it because he should be fucking exhausted, but Cas practically bounces up on his knees, ass up in presentation. Yes, you do.

“Fucking needy.” Dean smacks his palm on the red burn lines on Cas’ lower back. Then he smacks two fingers against Cas’ hole, for good measure.

That last one is a mistake because Cas makes a godawful sexy sound that goes straight to Dean’s groin. Again, a part of Dean registers that it’s probably on purpose because Cas knows how to keep quiet even when he’s losing his mind, but what’s more important is the next realization, which is that this is for Dean.

This, right now, Cas burying his face in his hands and keeping his ass up expectantly, is for Dean. Cas isn’t hard, can’t get hard again for a while, but he wants this so much he’s breaking their normal practice for movie night.

Well, Dean reminds himself, he’d broken their normal practice by getting Cas off first, didn’t he?

Logical, then, that Dean should shove his pants down and just fucking bury himself in Cas, one smooth thrust that has Cas yelping against the sheets. Cas always feels different depending on their play, and now Dean’s sliding into a place that had two dicks but has gone back down to just one, and holy fucking shit Cas must feel so raw.

“Not so tight anymore.” Dean gets a hand on the back of Cas’ head, fingers curling into the damp hair there. Cas rolls his hips, trying to match Dean’s thrusts when Dean picks up the pace, each slam of their bodies rocking them together. “Had so many cocks you’re leaking like a girl, Cas. Too bad you’re not tight… Except now we know what gets you tight, don’t we, Cas?”

Another two-fingered slap, but this time to the front, right on Cas’ soft cock.

Cas’ body jerks up off the bed, ass squeezing helplessly around Dean. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Make me come,” Dean snarls. The ropes are gone but the ribbons still there, holding Cas’ spent dick perfectly in place for Dean to run his palm over it. “What are you good for, huh, Cas? Milk me.”

Three more slaps does the trick. Cas hisses at each, but they just make him more eager and stubborn, shoving back against Dean to fulfill the challenge Dean gave him. There’s something about how Cas feels – wet and spasming around him – that makes Dean want to drive into him harder, faster. Cas has been passed around like a party favor but now Dean is dragging him back home with every piston of his hips.

Dean comes with a garbled curse, body seizing up but managing one last conscious shove to flatten Cas underneath him. Cas cries out with him, the sound piercing through the roar of blood in Dean’s ears, and in it Dean thinks he can hear a raw kind of laugh. That’s delight, Dean thinks. That is Cas’ satisfaction at having served Dean well.

Hearing that, and holding Cas like this, Dean feels… mighty. Loved. Safe, because he can have Cas like this and be adored for it.

Dean breathes.

It takes a while before Dean registers the far away noises of voices and water. Oh, that’s right, he has guests. They should be cleaning up now and, if Dean doesn’t get up soon, raiding his fridge.

“If you think that was all the punishment you’re gonna get,” Dean says into the thick of Cas’ hair, “you’ve got another think coming.”

Cas nudges him, and Dean rolls over on to his back. Cas’ expression is soft and fond, and the sight is vastly improved by the red lines sketched over his chest and stomach. “You didn’t say I had to stay still,” Cas points out. “You’d already untied me, Dean. Don’t be arbitrary.”

“Oh, you’re gonna argue now?”

“If you assume,” Cas says mildly, “then so will I. Now go, you have company.”

“How are you even talking in full sentences?” Dean grumbles. Of course Cas gets to sprawl out on the bed, exhausted by delectable, while Dean feels like a fucked out bag of creaking joints.

“Sounds like someone’s in the kitchen,” Cas says.

“I’m going!” Dean tries to pull his pants on, decides it’s a lost cause, then hops over to the closet to grab a pair of boxer shorts.

Before he leaves, Cas beckons to him. Just a smile and an open palm that says come here, which Dean does.

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands. His touch is as gentle as the kiss that follows, tugging on that thread in Dean’s head that wonders how he deserves any of this. Dean opens mouth, accepting the kiss for the seal that it is, and sighs when Cas pulls away.

Then Cas says, “Please make sure Victor doesn’t steal my coffee. I saw him using the exact same brand in the office and I have my suspicions.”

Dean rolls his eyes, hand lingering on Cas’ neck before he pulls away. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”