Lash your rafts together

Meg: Is in charge. There are no ifs ands or buts about this. She brings the toys. She’s very good with the toys.

Cas: Isn’t sure if he wants to be in charge or have his ass turned red. Likes to cuddle either way.

Jimmy: Is a princess. Denies it. Does not fool anyone.

Chosen Ship: Wincestiel

Prompt: “What an excellent day for an exorcism.” (The Exorcist) 

Warnings: Language(?), None

Tagging @rareshipcreationschallenge, @nbsam, @assbutttotheworld

Summary: Sam, Dean and Cas go on a road trip to Las Vegas.  Starring: The Impala, classic rock, alcohol and strip clubs.

The bunker was silent.

The kitchen, the library, and Sam’s bedroom were empty.

Sam, Dean and their angel were cuddled up ( although they would deny the cuddling part until their death) in Dean’s bed, Sam on the left side, one of his long legs slung over both Cas and Dean, his right arm wrapped around Castiel’s mid, who was the little spoon at the moment. Dean was sleeping face to face with Cas, Castiel’s hand resting on his side.

The silence was peaceful, until Dean opened his eyes, devilish smirk on his lip, looking at both his sleeping brother and the angel between them.

“Cas. Sam. Wake up.”

Sam’s eyes blinked open, and so did Castiel’s.

“What is it, De?”

Sam was tired, sleepy, and Dean just wanted to ruffle his hair. Castiel was simply adorable, yawning and looking confused as if the concept of waking up was something completely new. (It probably was, for him.)

“Vegas! Guys, Vegas!”

“Dean, we have the apocalypse to deal with.”

Sam dismissed his brilliant idea as nothing more than a brain fart. Dean couldn’t have that.

“You’re such a killjoy! Cas?”

Sam just tightened his grip around Cas, and Cas snuggled close again, his back still connected to Sam’s chest, while he looked at Dean with something like regret.

“Sam is correct, Dean. This is not the time for excessive drinking and frivolous behaviour.”

“But isn’t this the time to sin? The end is freaking nigh! It’s now or never!”

Neither Sam nor Cas seemed to be very thrilled by his proposal.

Dean sighed, and then he pouted.

“Please?”

He was pretty, and he was cute. But Sam was the master of the puppy dog eyes and not easily impressed, while Castiel was distracted by Sam scratching his neck. Traitors. But Dean Winchester wouldn’t be Dean Winchester if he would give up this easily.

“I can’t believe you’re making us do this, Dean.” Sam scowled, but Dean just grinned.

“He did win the bet, Sam. From my understanding of human culture that means we have lost, and are therefore compelled to-“

“I know Cas, I know”, Sam admitted. Dean looked incredibly smug.

Sam gave Dean a look that was dripping with annoyance.

“I should have known better than to accept that kind of bet when it comes to you.”

“Well, Sammy, there’s still a lot you can learn from me.”

“Slut”, was all Sam muttered under his breath, but Dean continued looking proud and Cas was busy trying to determine what clothing could possibly be appropriate for a trip to Las Vegas.

Two hours later they were driving, Dean’s music blasting out of the radio. At the moment it was Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again”. Cas had started humming about thirty minutes ago.

Dean had left humming behind and was full-on singing along by now.

And here I go again on my own Going down the only road I’ve ever known Like a drifter I was born to walk alone

Sam looked over at Dean, bitchface on. Dean just winked and grinned.

“One of the 80’s greatest hits, Sammy. Enjoy. Who knows what kind of music is left after Lucifer had his way with the world.”

“Technically, Lucifer is the angel of music. The chances are therefore not as bad as you might think that-“

“Cas. Kidding. I was kidding.”

Sam was snickering to himself while Castiel, who sat behind him, nodded and started to apologize.

“It’s okay, Cas. Just sing along to the next one and we’re good.”

That made Sam’s bitchface turn into a full-blown death glare. But Cas was eager to redeem himself, so while Sam watched the landscape fly by, Cas and Dean started singing.

Just a small town girl Livin’ in a lonely world She took the midnight train goin’ anywhere

Sam huffed, but Dean kept nudging him, poking him again and again, until Sam gave up and smiled against his will. This was stupid. This was ridiculous. But then again, they were a high school dropout, an ex-blood junkie and a fallen angel doing a road trip to Vegas. So he rolled his eyes one more time before joining them.

Strangers waiting Up and down the boulevard Their shadows searching in the night

“See, Sammy? Ain’t that better? Cas, beer!”

Of course they had their faithful cooling box with them, and it only took Castiel a few seconds to hand both of them a beer. Dean took a few gulps, before raising his beer, as if he was speaking to a crowd.

“And now, boys, for the best part!”

Don’t stop believin’ Hold on to the feelin’ Streetlights, people Don’t stop believin’

Sam still kinda wanted to roll his eyes, but then again, Dean was happier than he had been in a long time, and Castiel smiled so contentedly, so beautifully, so human, Sam simply sat back and kept singing.

Dean had spent the last hour getting Castiel dressed in something else than his trench coat and usual suit, and he had to admit, their personal angel could look damn fine – not that he wasn’t usually attractive- but he could look about a hundred times better with just a little care.

That was when Sam came out of the bathroom, a criminally small towel wrapped around his hips that allowed him to show off both his muscular thighs and perfect abs. The water drops falling from his still wet hair onto his skin weren’t exactly fair either. Dean swallowed, while Castiel tilted his head slightly, remarking,

“My vessel seems to like it when you shower, Sam.”

Sam looked at Cas, giving him one of his wolfish grins, strutting towards him more than he was walking, but before he could touch Cas, Dean stopped him with a hand against his chest. So firm. Dean licked his lips, seeing the spark in Sam’s eyes. No. He had to be strong.

“Not yet. We have to party first.”

Sam smirked devilishly.

“I’m gonna rim you until you come if that means we don’t have to go out.”

Dean honest to god whined, but he stayed strong. Cas patted Dean’s shoulder in understanding.

(“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” That’s what Dean said, as if he’d just given up pie and Baby, and not just the chance to have his ass eaten by Sam. As is there wouldn’t be a thousand other chances this weekend alone.)

It surprised no one that the first club they went to was a strip club. Cas was a little confused when he saw the stripping women, and since Dean had already taken off to get the first round of drinks, he turned towards Sam to ask the obvious question.

“Why does Dean insist on acting as if he is straight even if that means he has to drag his two boyfriends into a strip club?”

Sam just puts an arm around Cas and leads him to a booth.

“Well, Dean is so deeply in denial, it’s probably gonna take him a life time to dig himself out of that hole.”

Sam looks at Cas like he doesn’t really understand, before he scowled for a moment, licked his lips and asked, “Are we talking about an actual hole or was that a metaphor about how Dean desperately tries to hold on to his nonexistent heterosexuality?”

Sam smiled, almost proud. “It was just a metaphor.”

Cas nodded, looking definitely proud. “I’m getting better at this.”

“You are.”

That’s when Dean came back with the first round of shots, and a wide grin.

“I flirted with the bartender, and she would totally have blown me if hadn’t said no because of you two.”

Castiel looked over at Dean, nodding in what he must think was secretive, saying out loud what he probably wanted to whisper, “So this is Dean’s metaphorical hole. I get it. Good comparison.”

He nodded towards Sam, winking extremely conspicuously. Of course Dean picked up on it. Sam gave him an apologizing half-smile, before starting to laugh.

Dean said nothing, just slid into the booth and pinched the inside of Sam’s upper arm, making him flinch away, grinning broadly before lifting his glass.

“A toast?”

“To us”, Castiel supplied, surprising both Sam and Dean.

“That’s a good one”, Dean admitted, and Sam agreed wordlessly, clinking his glass first against Dean’s, then against Castiel’s before downing the shot.

“No, seriously Sam. Your favourite movie quote, now!”

Dean was pretty far gone, judging from how loud he was speaking, and the old joke he had made at least fifty times before. Castiel was fairly sober, but Sam was already drunk enough to play along.

“Only if you say yours first.”

Dean grinned, laughed loudly, and Sam knew he had been waiting for this.

“It is…it is…wait for it…Dirty Dancing! Nobody puts Baby in a corner!”

Dean gives them a second to make the connection, but before Sam or Cas can say anything, he adds, “Because I call my car Baby? Got it?”

Sam couldn’t help himself, he had to chuckle, despite the awful pun he’d heard at least fifty times before. Drunk Dean was still the best Dean.

“Dean, I think Dirty Dancing qualifies as what you would call a ‘chick flick’.”

Dean looked at Castiel as if he just stabbed him from behind, and Castiel felt instantly sorry. Sam send him off to get new alcohol and patted Dean’s back while he was gone, his brother muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Gotta teach him Swayze always gets a pass.”

The moment Castiel was back with new drinks, Dean seemed to have forgotten the insult to his manhood, so he focused on the actual question at hand.

“Sammy, Cas. Your favourite quotes.”

“Hm. I think I’d go for ‘Carpe Diem. Seize the day, boys’ from Dead Poets Society”, Sam muttered.

Cas looked a little confused, before hesitantly saying, “What an excellent day for an exorcism.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “God, guys. We’re in Vegas to have fun. You could’ve chosen ‘Shaken, not stirred’ or ‘Yippie-ki-yay, Motherfucker!’ or ‘Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ But no. Sam has to think about dead poets, and Cas, you have to remind us of work. This won’t do. We need more drinks.” Dean shook his head at them, levelling his best ‘I-expect-you-to-work-harder-on-having-fun-when-I’m-back’ stare at them and got more drinks.

Castiel looked at Sam, reminding him a little of a kicked puppy.

“I thought he would like the reference to your work.”

“It’s okay, Cas. You did well.” Sam found himself patting Castiel’s back this time, before adding, “I’m proud you knew a quote at all.”

That made Cas brighten up visibly.

It’s late, Dean was drunk, and so was Sam. Cas watched them dance to a slow song that Dean claimed was a classic – Against The Wind – and Cas couldn’t help but smile, seeing how much they loved each other, knowing how much they loved him.

He decided to get his hunters home then, no need for them to feel miserable in the morning or pass out in some seedy club when they had an angel to take care of them. Castiel politely turned the man down who had walked up to him while he watched Sam and Dean dance, and he thought he had done that right.

He’d said “I would like to accept your generous offer of buying me  a drink, but I already have two boyfriends who supply me with alcoholic beverages, therefore I am well taken care of, thank you very much.” The guy had left a little confused, making Castiel wonder if he’d gotten it wrong after all. He would ask Sam in the morning.

So he got up, the crowd parting easily before him, and both Sam and Dean wrapped their arms around him once he was close enough to touch. Cas smiled, his right arm around Dean, the left one around Sam when he lead them out of the club and brought them home.

Even though his grace was fading, he was still able to support both of them, and while Sam kept trying to educate him on Stanford’s pre-law course Dean was constantly pressing small kisses to his neck, occasionally sucking on his skin. Castiel found he didn’t mind either.

Once he dropped them on their huge bed, both of them were kicking off their shoes, and even completely drunk as he was, Dean still tried to help Sam take off his dress shirt. Sam managed it on his own, ended up helping Dean who was probably the most inebriated of all of them. Castiel was probably sober.

“Cas? Can you do me a favour?”

He kneeled down on the bed, catching Dean who almost fell off. His green eyes were so vibrant, so alive, no underlying sadness for once.

“Of course. Whatever you want, Dean.”

“Music, can you get us some music, Cas?”

“Sure, Dean. I can.”

Sam struggled out of his trousers, while Dean simply didn’t care about undressing anymore. Castiel didn’t even need grace to fulfil Dean’s wish, he just turned the vintage radio on that was probably only meant for decoration purposes. It still worked.

I was a little too tall Could’ve used a few pounds Tight pants points hardly reknown

When he had stripped himself down, ready to get into the bed, both Sam and Dean, although halfway asleep, wriggled a little to the side to make room for him.

There had been a time when Castiel hadn’t been sure if he could really have this with them, if there was place for anyone else between them. It hard turned out there was enough place for him, always.

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy Out in the back seat of my ‘60 Chevy Workin’ on mysteries without any clues

Dean rested his head on Castiel’s chest, and Sam threw one of his long legs over both Castiel and Dean, his right hand resting on Castiel’s stomach, Dean on the right side of the bed, Castiel in the middle, Sam to the left. Just like they’d woken up this morning.

Workin’ on our night moves Tryin’ to make some front page drive-in news Workin’ on our night moves In the summertime In the sweet summertime

“I like that song”, Dean murmured sleepily, pressing soft kisses to Castiel’s chest. Sam made an approving noise. The angel started to card one hand through Dean’s hair, while simultaneously turning his head to Sam to kiss him. Sam got the signal, trading lazy kisses with their angel while his hand started to move steadily up and down Dean’s side.

Created for the SPN Rare Ships Creation Challenge

@rodiniaorzetalthepenquin vs. @posingasme

Round 1: Edgar Allan Poe, “To M-”, Dean/Anna/Cas

Words: 703

Title is from an early title for the poem.

Can we please talk about these three in a poly relationship? Please??

What they don’t know is that it’s because he’s in love with the bar’s main attraction.  Castiel and James Novak do their Dueling Piano’s act Thursday through Saturday nights, and only Dean knows their staged teasing is real flirtation.  And when he starts working there, they start teasing each other about how much they like Dean, practically dueling over him with their music.  

“Don’t try to sleep through the end of the world Bury me alive ‘Cause I won’t give up without a fight,

If you love me let me go 'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars The fear of falling apart And truth be told, I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart”

Castiel smirks, blue eyes dark with lust. “Good boy, Sam,” he grunts softly, pressing the top of his cock to Sam’s mouth. “You were born to do this, weren’t you?” He runs his fingers through Sam’s hair, giving it a little tug.

Sam whimpers, takes the head of the angel’s cock between his lips, back arching as Meg presses the toy into him even deeper. 

Dean’s gone - maybe off in the next town, getting some extra stuff done. Sam’s been put in charge of looking after the demon - Castiel is supposed to be watching over Sam.

Sam’s sick of the stuffy room, knows he can’t leave - so he starts drinking instead, trying to cure his boredom. The other two join in and - fuck - things only escalate. 

Somehow Sam ends up naked on the bed - and Jesus Christ, suddenly he’s experimenting with anal play and someone’s kissing him while the other fingers him -

Mmm, suffice to say they’re all sweaty and satiated at the end.