Chapter Text
“That ain't right, boy.”
“What? It's awesome!”
“It's a nightmare.”
Flinging a handful of wet, heavy snow right at the critical vamp’s face, Dean defends his creation, “Maybe it used to be, but mad it funny.”
“Oh, I'm not arguing that. Just not the haha kind.”
Glaring now, Dean adds another stick to his creation. Okay, two more, just for that oomph. Stomping through the deep snow to the garage, he grabs a couple bottles from the recycling bin, then finds twine. Five minutes and some cold fingers later, he's tugging on his gloves before Benny can grumble. But the finished product is just right.
Tromping over to his vamp, Dean scoffs at the triple vertical lumps, “That's the best you can do?”
“Not everything's a contest.”
“That's what everyone who doesn't win says.” It’s impossible to not tease, Dean's brimming with energy.
“There's that ego again,” Benny moves damn quick, just in Dean's face now, “Bet I know just how to take you down a peg or two.”
Yeah, Dean's shivering now and it ain't from the cold. He licks his lips and presses closer, “Maybe, Papa. But I’m still gonna win.”
“Think so? Let's make things interesting.”
“I always do,” yup, Dean knows his cheekiness is gonna cost him and that's a-okay. “What's the deal?”
“I win, you do the dishes for the rest of the week.”
“Like I'm scared of a chore? Pff. Fine, but when I win, you gotta do the vacuuming, same timeline.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
Their teasing keep up for another minute before the patio door opens. Dammit, Cas is just freaking adorable in his snow gear. He doesn't need to wear it, his feathery ass doesn't get cold, but it's about solidarity; if Benny and Dean have to wear clothes, Cas offered to do it, too.
Thick lips smirk above a bright red scarf, “Are you done picking on one another?”
Benny grins, “Naw, Blue, can't make it too easy on you.”
“What he said. So, whatcha think?”
Dean can't resist drooling as the prettiest angel plows right through the knee-deep snow with zero resistance, those thighs are seriously wicked.
“Oh, this is wonderful! Wonderful detailing, darling.”
Benny winks at Dean, then bumps Cas’ shoulder, “Classic with a bit of fun.”
The snowman is nearly their height, all smooth and round. Oreos for eyes and mouth, an actual carrot for a nose – got a lot of those on hand and Dean hates every one of them – and a toboggan with big flaps on its head. Benny's apron is tied around the lumps, and instead of arms there’s a grill fork and tongs. There's even a butt crack peeking behind the apron. Dean's not about to admit that it's kinda cute.
Cas runs those fine fingers over the blob, “How did you get it so smooth?”
Great, now Benny’s talking sculpting techniques, ugh. Artist to artist, shit, this isn't looking good for him.
Finally Cas follows Dean over to his masterpiece. Dean spreads his arms wide like tada!
Silence.
Well, almost, Dean can hear Benny's smirk.
“I have no idea what I'm looking at.”
“It's a snowmanster!”
Cas’ face courses between several expressions, landing on one that's just as puzzled as the first. He circles the form, “A mutant?”
“Yeah! C'mon, don't you get it?”
“Ah, it's not a yeti.”
“Nope. Look, I take a genteel frosty like Benny's basic thing,” earning the swat on his ass, “place a curse on him, a real whammy. This is what happens.”
The base blob is still round, just with wooden rails angled to the ground, “Arachnid legs!”
Benny points to the plastic rake buried through its back, “Peacock?”
“Nah, a dozen scorpion tails.”
The middle blob has two cotton gloves hanging on shirt sticks, Dean offers, “Those tiny, grabby alien hands that pop out of a chest.”
Cas scoffs, “Another terrible movie. What are these?”
Around the neck are as many carrots as Dean could wedge in without decapitating the thing, “Venomous spikes, launches them at prey, the flavor kills, the toxins are secondary.”
Both guys roll their eyes, Cas motioning to the glass.
“Oh,” twists the root beer bottles at the top of its head, “antennae.” And before either can ask, he flicks the socks dangling out of the maw, “Just got a fresh meal.”
He's watching closely, doesn't miss how Cas’ eyes race to Benny with a blatant plea. Sure enough, Benny clicks his tongue, “There's no way you ran across something like this and just forgot to mention it over the years.”
“Nope, this is an original. Say it with me, snowmanster.”
“Ain't happening.”
Cas runs Deana shoulder, “Well, you certainly put effort into… this. Quite creative, Dean.”
“That mean you like it?
“I like everything about you, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, babe. I– wait. Oh, think you're slick, don’tcha?”
“Dean,” that messy hair flutters when Cas leans close, “I can hear the squirrels shrieking in fear.”
He tries, like really tries, but Dean can't hold back a laugh. “You both suck. Fine, Benny wins.” Even so, he takes pictures of both forms and sends them to Sam.
The response is almost instant, There's something wrong with you .
Cursing his brother silently, Dean shoves his phone back into his pocket. “We've got plenty of time before dinner, right?”
His studs nod.
“Up for a game?”
They're soon on the lake, warming up. When Cas brought ice skates home weeks ago, Dean had just stared in horror. But Benny whooped and scratched out a list, Cas flying off again. Yeah, hockey is way better than what Dean has imagined.
Now wearing a padded coat, the same snow pants, skates, and a helmet, he's getting schooled by their vamp. It's awesome, so physical and exhilarating, something brand new. Who knew Benny was so good?
Cas is currently playing goalie while Benny and Dean try to slap shots past him. That sexy Angel is quick always, but seeing him like this, it's like he's dancing on skates. Nope, that's the wrong kind of skating, Dean shakes his head and focuses. His shot goes wide left.
“Keep goin’, cher , push, don't shove.” Benny’s an awesome coach, always maintaining that perfect line of teasing and guiding. Just like with boxing, when Dean gets frustrated, his vamp redirects his focus.
Push push push. It goes wide, but not quite as bad.
Benny skates up, smoothly getting his hands into place, “Like a gun, smooth draw. Squeeze.” And his pick meets Cas’ shin.
“Shit, okay,” Dean nods. Makes sense, never yank the trigger, give her a firm squeeze. Taking a steadying breath, he tries again. This one taps the edge of the goal post, right at Cas' toe. “Hell yeah!”
The Vamp holds up a hand for a high-five, “Atta boy!”
Cas grins from his spot, whacking the puck back to them.
“Again, Dean, you've got this.”
And he does. Not every time, sure, but this is the biggest improvement he's made since they started practicing. His lovers don't coddle him with this but they sure as hell give him what he needs to stay encouraged. By the time he's sweating through his layers and his arches ache from balancing literally on razors’ edges, Dean has tapped Cas’ feet more often than not. One shot even went into a spin and Cas had to dive for it, which left Dean feeling smug.
They're seated on the dock, untying their laces now. “Y'know, I love our lake when it's warm and liquid. But this is really cool.”
Cas hums his agreement, “It's uniquely beautiful.”
“Right? Kinda always thought of winter as bland, but not here.”
“Oh, every season’s got something special,” Benny’s tugging on his boots, “Just gotta give it a chance.”
“And we will, my darlings, we'll try everything. Do…” Cas trails off, his gorgeous eyes squinting at the frozen lake.
“Nuh uh, Daddy, spill.”
Cas actually blushes, just this pink on all that bronze, “I assume you both have done sledding at some point.”
“It's gone sledding, feathers, and yes.” Benny has a small smile, “Got a glimpse of slidin’ down a hill when I was knee-high. Been a long time.”
That pulls at Dean's heart just the same as Cas’ shy question, Dean knows what they're getting at. “Me n’ Sammy would sneak out when we were young, grab a piece of anything slick. Even cardboard once. We should find a hill.”
Those sapphires sparkle with excitement, “You would like to go again?”
“Yeah, babe, it's gonna be awesome!”
Benny adds his support, “Sure will. Cher , you gonna find us some sleds?”
Laces and secure, Dean climbs to his feet and gathers all their skates, “Do I want to shop online? Oh, man, I dunno.”
Cas snorts, “You're already making a mental list.”
“Shaddup, angel-mine.” Yeah, he totally is. He crosses off two sites by time their gear is stowed, and has added one of those classic Red Ryder types.
They load up the bed of Benny's truck now. Several buckets of feed pellets. Two pails of grain, a sack of dried apples, a salt block and a row of locally-sourced hay bales. Considering himself a man of nature now, Dean plants his ass on the hay for the slow, bumpy ride. The route is fairly fresh, them having hacked and sawed a path when Dean had a fretful dream about the woodland creatures not having access to enough food. Sure, a dream, but he mulled over it and got a bit moody, finally booking up and raising the idea to the guys. Benny had been right on board, said they would mark the trees and vegetation that needed to go right after lunch. And their angel? Cas just kissed Dean’s knuckles and told him how proud he was that Dean voiced what he wanted. Zeppdammit, of course Cas knew what Dean was thinking, the perfect guy was giving Dean time to work up to it. Now they have means to bring regular provisions to the thicket, close enough for the long-leggers to get supplemental meals without wandering far.
About halfway there, Benny stops the truck and out hops Cas. Now, this is just freaking cute, he’s all goofy grins as he strides over to the wooden version of a Barbie Dream House bolted to an oak. Thick lip pucker and whistle Winds of Change ‘cause that’s just awesome. Leaves are kicked from one of the dozen holes in the labyrinth, the first pointy little face poking out and twitching whiskers. Another one tries to climb over the first, them both scrambling around to a perch, or in Cas’ words, the upper deck.
One leaps from said-deck onto Cas’ shoulder, him casually rubbing the top of its head, “Hi, Butter, you look well.”
The third barrels onto the deck and knocks the second down, the flailing one catching itself on the bark and streaking right back up to scream obscenities in squirrel-ese. Like everything else with rodents, their attention vaporizes and they race down the tree and up Cas’ back.
“Peanut, Jelly, you must practice manners.”
Having personally witnessed Cas interrogating a cat was one thing, cats are at least intelligent – they have to be in order to wrap humans around their paws while simultaneously planning the Dawn of the Felines. Squirrels, though? Cas described their inner monologues as similar to cartoon characters. Makes sense.
Handing out blueberries one at a time, Cas chats to the miscreants and damn if the twitchy things don't sit and behave. Yeah, Dean knows just how influential his angel is. Berries and scratches completed, Cas pours a bag of nuts into the chimney and stakes several dried corn cobs onto the perches. Routine complete, Cas gives a final lecture on etiquette and then stuffs a couple tube socks into an entryway. The screeches and clicks are seriously high-pitched, the twitchy tails disappearing to build another nest or something.
What had started as Cas noticing a trip of squirrels racing about while flying his drone, turned into him checking on the fuzzy things daily. It was like a sitcom for him, naming them from afar – Dean can’t tell them apart – and tuning in for the latest goings ons. That led to lots of googling and the angel worried the leafy nest in the crook of a tree wasn’t enough for the rodents. Not like Dean could say anything, he had already cleared out a corner of the garage for hay. At some point Cas had brought home an oversized dollhouse and stashed it under a tarp, said he found it at the lumberyard. Weird. But Dean gave several coats of sealant and added some leftover shingles from Benny’s garage and the thing became habitable. Or so Dean had thought. Benny called it out, said Cas was eyeing the house a lot as it dried, suggested some extra legroom. For squirrels. Legroom for squirrels. Okay, yeah, he was right; once Dean presented the triple-sized house, Cas was ecstatic. Each main house had room for a nest, enclosed hallways between, holes inside to climb wherever they want, a pool to collect water and a chimney for Santa Cas to drop down presents.
Once secured to the oak, Cas spent the better part of a morning talking to the squirrels. The trio packed their bags and moved right in and weekly supplies are a thing for them, too. But the way Cas smiled is worth building a mansion for each and every animal in YogaLand.
Now all they need is for Benny to find a woodland friend. Which the big guy had laughed off, saying he’s got his hands full with Cas and Dean. To which Dean had cheekily replied by reminding his stud that there’s a grizzly around that would be great for the two to arm wrestle. Ha.
Reaching the roadside diner, Dean leaps out to shovel snow out of the three-sided shed. It’s not much, just wood, shingles and a few troughs, but it’s an oasis. With only a thin layer of powder that’s blown in by the wind, Cas tosses him the bales and gets to his slightly particular and absolutely not obsessive habit of arranging the stock correctly. He’s got a system here. Because he’s awesome, Benny always makes a wide loop around the thicket, his silent footsteps not disturbing a thing as he checks for any signs of someone that shouldn’t be there. Not once has the vamp caught wind of any intruders, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Not today, though, everything’s calm, clear and their furry friends have food to get through another winter storm with subzero temperatures starting tonight.
Home just in time for dinner, Dean’s eager to shed all the layers, having been dressed and outside nearly every daylit hour. Down to flannel boxer briefs, ‘cause even with awesome insulation, their cabin still gets a chill, he stretches his back. A series of snap, crackle and pops has him groaning, “Man, my joints just lock up this time of year.”
Benny sits on the couch, “C’mere, babe, lemme help.”
Not about to decline, Dean sits sideways, “Can you imagine how cranky I’d be without yoga?” He moans as strong thumbs work along his spine.
“Yeah, lived through it enough years with you,” Benny teases.
Cas adds from the kitchen, “Never again. Dean, is there pain?”
“Not–,” he yelps, “not really, just knotted up.”
Their angel must’ve been looking worried or stepping over, ‘cause Benny says, “Nah, I got him. This body’s strong, just needs some loosening up.”
Biting back the filthy comment only because he doesn’t want this massage cut short, Dean grabs a throw pillow to curl over. Those skilled hands are already helping, as soothing as a hot bath.
“Here, my love,” there’s Cas with water, always looking out.
Doesn’t take long for Benny to get Dean back to his bendy self. Linking hands behind his back and arching, there are a couple pops but the good kind, “So much better. Thanks, stud.”
There’s a huff, “Anytime, babyboy. Mmm.”
Oh, Dean perks right up, turning to find Benny’s eyes dark and narrow on him. Hell yeah. “Like that?”
“I’m gonna tie you up just like that, wrists to ankles, hang you from your harness,” Benny’s licking up his neck, “see just how–.”
“Benny, Dean.”
Yeah, Dean pouts, “Can’t cut him off right there, Daddy.”
“Behave and Benny can finish later. Come on, dinnertime.”
Sex and food go hand in hand, so this is just as good, though he’s damn well gonna make sure he finds out what Benny’s got in mind. For now, he sinks onto his cushion and inhales something delicious.
Cas kisses his forehead, “Beef stew, rosemary asparagus, and skillet cornbread.”
“Hell yeah! We should make a candle that smells just like this,” and happily opens his mouth for the first bite.
Benny’s chewing, too, “That could be an interesting project.”
Dean’s so focused on the buttery cornbread headed his way that it takes a second to process the words. Chewing fast and gulping the water from Cas, he tries again, “Candles?”
“Mmhmm,” the big guy’s stirring his bowl, “Remember that documentary a while back, the folks that created a candle for each of their favorite meals?”
Honestly, no… Dean had kinda fallen asleep within minutes of the intro.
But Cas nods, “Yes, they discussed how scent can recall memories more intensely than other senses.”
Chewing down more delicious stew, Dean makes a point, “But there are already a ton of scents out there. Look at all the ones Cas brings home for our baths.”
“Sure, lots of individual ones. I’m thinking we could blend our own, cher , try out different waxes, find ones that just hit the spot.”
“My stomach would be rumbling all day, I’m warning you now.”
The guys chuckle, Cas keeping pace with bites as always, “Benny made a wonderful point. Anyone can buy a scented candle, but imagine,” he offers the straw, “lighting one that smells exactly like his cherry pie.”
And Dean’s sputtering, choking on the water.
Benny thumps his back a few times, “Easy, boy. Gonna take that as you’re interested.”
“Can’t just say something like that, Cas,” Dean’s dizzy with it, all the blood flow washed down his choking throat and landing in his cock.
“Mmm, it’s impossible not to.”
That smooth drawl gives Dean another round of shivers, “Might be time to bake some homemade cinnamon rolls.”
Squeezing his eyes tight and trying to control his body, Dean’s biting his cheeks to keep the lewd sounds locked tight.
“Would you make the icing, too, darling?”
“You can bet your sexy feathers.”
Nope, Dean whimpers, digging his fingers into his thighs instead of grabbing his hardening cock. And still has to open his mouth ‘cause Cas is waiting with the spoon.
Benny’s here to murder Dean’s brain, “You know that special treat I mentioned the other day?”
There’s a filthy smirk on Cas’ face, just gorgeous, “White chocolate.”
“Mmhmm, strawberries n’ cream. I can’t stop thinking about doing all that n’ then lighting a candle just like it.”
Those blazing sapphires land squarely on Dean’s face, his voice just north of a growl, “I will devour it.”
Fuck.
Sure, he knows he’s not going to get an answer, the teasing is a part of the game and Dean’s gonna ask anyway, “What’re you gonna do with the chocolate?”
There’s a huff from the vamp and a feral grin from the angel, “Eat up, sweetheart.”
Sure, just rile him up and wave around the concept of something delicious and yank it away. Oh. Right, he’s still getting something delicious, literally on a silver spoon. His new lifestyle is really making it hard to complain.
At least the guys show some mercy, moving the conversation into pros and cons of soy wax vs natural beeswax. Dean has no stance on either, he’ll just order whatever supplies his lovers decide on. Instead, he focuses on his meal and steering his mind away from… chocolate. Dammit.
Still, he gets a great view of Benny’s sexy ass while the stud brews dessert. Just as Dean takes the last bite of dinner, Benny sets three mugs on the table. Yet more amazing scents to get Dean drooling again.
“Benny, this smells wonderful,” Cas is inhaling the steam.
“Thanks, blue. That one’s Dean’s, yours n’ mine have some extra kick.”
Works for Dean, he’d love to get one of them tipsy again. Or both at the same time. Holy fuck, what would that even be like? He’d for sure end up in a babbling, dripping mess, probably after screaming his lungs out. Okay, that has to happen, a new goal has been shuffled to the forefront of the pile.
While Cas tilts the straw, Benny chimes in, “Peppermint hot chocolate.”
And we have a Pavlovian response, Dean’s cock twitches and the few hard-working worms up top throw their hands up and file for long-term disability, citing exhaustion. One remains behind, the captain used to going down with the ship so often that he’s just chained to the bow. Each sip of his own creamy deliciousness is awesome, seeing his lovers sip theirs… he sniffs, schnapps laden drinks, even better. But the captain slaps the control console a few times, can’t drop the curiosity on chocolate. What do the guys have planned? Not just chocolate, specifically white chocolate–.
“Relax, sweet boy,” Cas cups his cheek, “You’ll know when I decide you need to.”
Oh. Well, the captain accepted that and cancelled all leave, the grumbling worms returning to their posts. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Always,” and those elegant fingers are feeding Dean his supplements.
Saying his thanks for dinner, he must pay his dues. Fair is fair, Dean had lost the best snowman bet – though he’s going to make an appeal tomorrow – so he cleans up the kitchen. Meaning he has to wash his own silver spoon. Oh, the irony. Face washed and teeth brushed now, he heads downstairs. One step in and he shivers.
Cas is already there and wrapping a throw blanket around him, his face etched in worry, “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“It’s cool. Ha, didn’t intend a pun. It’s alright, just that northern wind is brutal already.”
Big hands rub his shoulders, “Let’s watch our movie in bed.”
Dean’s ready to protest but a howling gust hits the windows and sliding doors, the chill finding his toes and heading right up. “Yeah, maybe just tonight.” Yet he finds it hard to head back to the stairs, his gut twists.
“Dean,” Cas kisses him so sweetly, “let’s consider this a winter storm remedy. Not a disruption to our routine.”
“Y’mean, super cold nights, we just stay in bed?”
“Yes, where you’ll be most comfortable.”
“And when it’s not cold as hell, we can…”
“Come right back down here.”
“That sounds… good. Okay, yeah.” It actually does, the worry seeping away and only leaving the goosebumps. “Thanks, Daddy.”
They meet Benny at the top of the stairs, his sweet smile and soft eyes on Dean, “Was just gonna suggest the same.”
Touched and maybe a little shy ‘cause this is Dean Winchester in touch with his emotions, he clutches the blanket around his shoulders, “Y’know, most people would probably suggest just wearing more, or any, clothes.”
“Sure, but they haven’t seen this fine body,” Benny nips at his chin, “It’s a sin to cover you up.”
Dean doesn’t even have to walk, he just glides to their room on the cloud his men fluffed for him. Pausing as Cas peels off his flannel, it feels so good to finally be naked again, another fine layer of tension dissipates from Dean’s tired muscles. Taking the middle of the bed, he nestles onto Cas’ arm and kicks a leg over Benny’s. Blankets are tucked up around his shoulders, perfect.
“What’s it gonna be, boy?”
Right, it’s Dean’s night to choose. Snagging the remote, he knows just what.
Cas’ voice is so dry he could do a voiceover for a Clear Eyes commercial, “I cannot believe a second one was made.”
“If it’s anything like the first,” here comes the vamp comedian, “they probably used a chat bot AI to write it.”
“Hey now, I didn’t complain when you picked Mars Attacks –,” Dean’s cut off.
“ You picked that one.”
“No way, that… dammit, okay, whatever. It’s a big shark, sharks are cool, deal with it.”
Well, Dean didn’t make it a whole seven minutes into Meg 2: The Trench before his eyelids drooped. The warm and cozy portions majorly beat the absurd movie and utter lack of effort with the movie. This is better, snuggled in bed with his lovers in their cabin in the woods, during a snowstorm swirling down from the mountains. Just the best.
He must’ve nodded off ‘cause he’s stretched out on his stomach as his senses wake up. Realizing he’s gripping a pillow and not Cas’ thick thighs, well, he sits up quickly. The room is nice and warm, but not just from the HVAC system. Only takes a second to find them with the delicious sounds coming from the side and Cas’ eyes gleaming in the dark.
Fuck.
Cas is on a lounge chair by the windows, leaned back with one insanely sexy leg draped over Benny’s shoulder. Said-shoulders are bunched and rippling as Benny slowly works his throat around Cas’ huge cock, the slurping and humming just the best sounds. Fuck, Benny’s gotta be fingering Cas’ hole ‘cause the angel’s chin is tilted to the ceiling.
Every part of Dean’s body throbs and quivers, going from literally asleep to begging in seconds. Being used to sexual whiplash doesn’t mean it’s any less awesome each time, nope, this is one of the best ways to wake up, hands down. And dammit, he’s gotta keep his hands down, just twisting into the sheets. His ass, though, that can at least do something; he clenches around the massive impaler in time with Benny’s head bobbing, feeling the toy from his spread rim all the way up to his ribs.
Letting out a particularly high moan and grabbing at Benny’s hair, Cas must be getting some real good attention on his sweet spot. Which means his cock is absolutely drooling, just rivers of that never-ending spice leaking right into Benny’s mouth. The muscles along Benny’s back flex as he gulps down and somehow keeps the same pace.
It's so hot, Dean's dying to get closer, to feel one of those hands or mouths on him. Like wishing on a star but a thousand times better, he feels Cas’ voice along their link, though the sexy angel’s eyes are closed as he groans all filthy.
Permission granted, Dean's hands are already rubbing himself up and down. The first brush against his cock has him shuddering, then flat out gasping as a deluge of sensations slams into his mind. Oh fuck, Cas is sharing what he's feeling and it's like Benny’s mouth is on Dean's cock right now. His hand and the phantom tongue have his cock kicking, the huge plug clenched deep while invisible fingers rub his sweet spot. It's so much, so awesome, just overwhelming every nerve in his body and spiking his brain.
Too sensitive, he can't handle it, instead rolling and tugging his balls now. Everything amps up same time as Cas’ groans, Dean's hands just fall to the side as Cas’ bliss pases right to him. Then he's flying sky high as Cas’ orgasm explodes, the sounds coming from the studs echoes in their room. It's good, so good, Dean’s brain flashes and everything pulses, but he can't cum, not with a rod this big filing his cock. Some deliciously shameful cry scrapes out of his throat, to ged with intense need.
His eyes roll around, finally blinking enough times to clear. And he whimpers.
Benny's seated now, big hands on Cas' hips as the angel grinds his ass down. They're both watching him, blazing blue eyes seeing every motion and breath. Fuck this feels awesome.
Then Cas winks and goes off, pistoning over Benny's massive cock and flinging that link open again.
Dean screams, feeling that draw and pull, an absolute battering. He can't, just… more. He half-falls off the bed, shuddering as he crawls over. Kneeling just out of reach, as much a fiend for denial as for actual touch, he marvels over Cas’ bronze body thrashing. Every muscle is sharp and tight and stunning, thighs spread wide over Benny’s, big cock bouncing and looking so delicious.
Benny groans deep and stutters, bucking into that greedy ass, grabbing Cas’ throat to pin him back, the squeezing a phantom for Dean, too. Tat turns to a growl and Cas grins like pure sin, his laugh erotically evil and holy shit Dean knows. Cas is sharing with both of them…
Lost in the inferno, Dean can hardly touch himself, everything's on fire. He feels each and every rub and pull and squeeze and spread and his eyes roll back when Benny’s fangs tear into Cas’ shoulder. He knows what that mouth feels like, loves feeding his Papa, but the way Cas' feels it is otherworldly. Another sizzle and the thick solid, rod is gone, Dean literally cried in relief and grabbed his cock. He's leaking, oozing his need, drowning in what Cas feels from Benny, he's falling apart.
When Benny strokes Cas’ cock, the Angel going into overdrive, Dean's orgasm shatters him. There’s a filthy moan and a deep growl, Cas’ orgasm stroking like lightning, and Dean screams. His body explodes, his eyes are blinded, his brain knocks out.
Something warm rubs his cheek, it's so nice, Dean just goes back to sleep.
It's back again, like a hug to his face, mmm.
“Sweetheart, open your eyes.”
Oh, that's Cas. Feeling punch drunk, Dean manages to get his lids up a sliver, should get a medal for the effort.
“Hi, baby. Are you alright?”
“Real good,” but that's not how it sounded. Words are hard.
A pretty smile is right there, then lips grace his face, “So lovely, let's get you in bed.”
The room spins and blurs, but Dean is pretty sure he sees Benny on a chair. Huh, that goofy grin is so pretty, Dean kinda wants to lick the vamp like an ice cream cone. Mmm. He dozes again, eyes popping open at more movement. Ah, Cas got Benny into bed, too, he's so sweet. Now his Daddy's here, settling on a pillow. Dean doesn't need energy or even thought, his body knows what to do. He deliriously squirms down between Cas’ legs, lips spreading for the fat cock, swallowing once to get him right there. Fingers trace his cheek, a lullaby on the motions. Then another heavy hand lands in his hair, not moving, just there. Ah, perfect.