#spnpolyamorynet

So she got the bad first impression out of the way. That should mean she could be totally normal the next time she met him, right? Not so much.

Second impressions weren’t really better than firsts.

After a long, long day at the hospital Meg had driven home tired, pissed, and wanting to strangle someone. Sadly, her usual spot was taken up by a fucking huge boat of a car that had literally just pulled in to the lot ahead of her. So maybe Meg took the spot next to it that was barely wide enough because the next asshole over had crossed the line. And maybe she opened her door a little too vigorously. And maybe her pathetic rusted Geo that could not get any uglier had scratched a dent in the pristine black of the car next to her.

That was when he got out. The hot neighbor. Fucking fuming enough to steam out of his ears.

Meg flipped him off and didn’t say a word as she briskly crossed the parking lot to the building.

-

Meg stretched and curled tighter against her best friend’s back, wrapping an arm around his waist to squeeze his belly. She’d given him a key to her apartment a long time ago so he could sneak in on Saturday mornings and crawl in to bed with her.

“I put my foot in my mouth a lot, don’t I?” She asked.

Cas wiggled against her and buried his face in the crook of her elbow, her one arm slid under his head. “Frequently, yes.”

“Do I come off as a bitch?”

“I believe most people see it as such. You have a caustic personality. But a good heart.”

Pinching his belly, Meg nipped once at the back of his neck. “Shut up with that mushy crap.”

“Of course, Meg.”

The heavy black out curtains were pushed to the side of the window so the sun streamed in across the bed, dark maroon sheets rumpled around them. Meg always slept naked, but Cas didn’t mind, he had on his soft flannel pajamas with flowers all over them. Little spoon, lazing in a sun beam like a fucking cat.

Meg was petting over his belly distractedly when he asked, “Is something bothering you?”

Ungh. She hated talking about this crap. Cas had a way of getting it out of her. Especially during Saturday morning cuddles. It was like he had conditioned her for ‘sensitive conversations’ during cuddling.

Rubbing her face between his shoulder blades and shifting to slot one of her legs between her thighs, Meg grumbled to herself, “He’s just really fucking hot and it’s not fair.”

Cas patted the back of her hand consolingly, “You can’t lure everyone in to bed, as hard as you may try.”

“Well hey, it took me ten months but I got even you in to bed.”

Stiffening just a little, Cas curled into himself more, “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”

Meg slapped his hip playfully, “Hey, that was a joke, idiot. Don’t ever apologize for being yourself.”

So they didn’t have a sexual relationship. Cas didn’t want that from anyone. When Meg finally caught on, she’d eased up on the blatant advances. Somehow, Cas ended up in her bed anyway. Just for cuddles. And apparently, therapy sessions.

Cas relaxed again, stretching his long legs out as Meg molded her smaller frame to him like a barnacle. He was a furnace, always warm, and that stupid organic honey and milk soap he used smelled fucking amazing. Meg wasn’t the sort of person to cuddle - normally - bang and run was more her style. Cas was something else.

Lapsing into quiet for a handful of minutes, soaking up the sun and lazing, Cas was the first to break the silence again.

“Is it Dean you’re talking about?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Well he is very attractive, and I know how easily distracted you are by new things.”

Cas rolled onto his back and Meg pushed under his arm to rest her head on his chest, a broad hand soothing down her back under the sheets.

“And why do you think he’s attractive?”

“I’m asexual, not dead.”

“Good point. Boy could probably raise someone from the dead with a pout of those lips, though, I mean come on.”

Cas hummed and kissed the top of her head. “So. You made a bad first impression. Try again.”

“Yeah and then I made a disastrous second impression.”

“So make it up to him.”

“What do you mean?”

Pulling Cas’ shirt up just a little to scratch her fingers through the fine hairs of his belly, Meg frowned against his chest.

“Do something nice for him.”

“Like what? I don’t even know the guy.”

“Hmm. He works late hours. He has a brother. He’s allergic to cats. His parents are absent. He loves pie.”

Meg pushed up on an elbow and stared, “How do you even know all that?”

Cas blinked down at her. “I talk to him sometimes. You just need to listen. Observe. For example, I see him with pie boxes from Benny’s bakery all the time.”

Flopping down on the mattress and rolling onto her back, stretching and yawning, Meg turned the new information over in her mind.

“They say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach right? You think that’d work if I want to get to his dick instead of his heart?”

-

Meg shifted uncomfortably on the ugly beige hallway carpet in front of his door. This was stupid. Pie tin in one hand, she glared at his door number. Cas had assured her that Dean would be home at this time of night. Almost three a.m. Not like Meg had a fucking sleep schedule either.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Meg knocked. In ripped up jeans and a tank, shoeless, she leaned against his door frame and tried not to scowl when the door swung back. He was wearing low cut jeans, no shirt, looking way too hot. Fucking asshole. Meg practically shoved the pie tin at him.

“I baked you this pie and you better like it.”

Dean still had a hand on the door, looked at the pie, looked at her. “What?”

Meg took a deep breath. “Look I was going to apologize for being such a bitch, but I’m pretty much always a bitch, so, I don’t know, sorry for puking on your feet and scratching your car?”

Dean crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Huh. So you made a pie?’”

“Yeah, don’t get too excited. It’s canned filling and Pillsbury crust. Cas said you like pie.”

“You know Cas?” Dean looked startled at that.

“Yeah. We’re besties. So do you want the fucking pie or not?”

Dean accepted the pie from her, peeled back the tinfoil and sniffed it, pulled off a piece of crust and tasted it experimentally. What a fucking dick.

“This isn’t too bad. You uh. You want to share?”

“Not really. But I do want to shove you against the wall and make you beg for it.”

-

Dean was bigger and broader than her in every fucking way but he folded so easy. Scratch marks down his chest and lips bit swollen, he whimpered underneath her with his hands pinned to the bed. He could overpower her any time he wanted but he still begged so pretty. Meg was addicted to this kind of power.

His cock was ready to go all wrapped in a condom, but she didn’t give him what he wanted right away. Squeezed her thighs around his waist and slid the length of her cunt along his hard cock, grinding down. Holding his wrists with sharp nails in his skin. Smiling at him.

Cheeks bright pink, Dean begged, “Please”, over and over again.

Lifting up, swiveling her hips to get the tip of his cock poised just so against her, Meg sunk down on him and lowered her head to his chest to bite. Smooth skin and those perky nipples, working one side to another, there were already deep red bruises sucked to the surface.

They had tumbled into bed pretty fast, pie deposited on the counter, clothes torn off. Dean went so easy, let her push him down on the bed and climb on top. Sure, sometimes Meg liked a fight, but there was something about just how fucking needy he was for the right kind of bad touch.

Rocking on his lap, scratching down his arms and letting him go, Meg sat up. Lifted and gave a dirty grind. Dean’s hands went to her thighs right away, squeezed and slid up to her hips, squeezed and slid up to her tits. Leaning over him, Meg braced her hands on his chest and sunk her nails in. His breath hitched when she did that, when she got her teeth or her nails in him. Eyes gone wide, he started shoving his hips up off the bed. So fucking desperate. Meg ached.

Meg lifted her hands and slapped them down open palm right over his chest, loud smack of it ringing.

Dean fucking howled, cursed her out, dug his fingers into her waist and folded his legs up to fuck her, bouncing her up like she didn’t weigh anything. Meg rode him, splayed her hands over his chest and pinched his nipples, her hair messy and sweaty against her neck as she shuddered through her first orgasm around his thick cock.

Shit but he had a nice cock. She’d have to give that proper attention. Later.

If he was in to ass play, she had hit the fucking jack pot.

-

“Wait, since when is he in a coma?”

Dean snorted, “He’s been in a coma for like, most of the season. So of course she’s going for his brother. I mean, have you seen him.”

“Yeah, I’d totally bang both of them at the same time.”

“Right?”

Scooping another forkful of pie and melting vanilla ice cream out of the tin between them, Meg watched the latest episode of the soap ‘Dr Sexy’, which Dean had recorded. There were a few empty beers on the coffee table. Both of them still naked.

“Ok, wait, who got her pregnant?”

“It was totally Romero.”

“He’s been dead for like two seasons.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Meg scowled at Dean and ate more aggressively. The drama unfolded with tears and screaming and sexy people slapping each other.

“This show is such fucking trash,” Meg commented.

She loved it so much.

“Yeah. I’ve got the last season on DVD. Have you been keeping up?”

“No, shit I missed like half of last season.”

Dean pushed up and scooped another forkful of pie into his mouth before shuffling over to a DVD stand by the TV. “We can totally binge it.”

“Yeah, I’ve got more beer in my apartment.”

Meg set the pie on the coffee table as she pulled a throw blanket around her waist. Dean was squatted down getting a DVD in. Shit, the sight of swinging balls was something Meg would never not find hilarious.

“Hey,” She added. “You know that weirdo across the hall, Cas, he should be awake by now, mind if I bring him back with the beer?”

-

Meg literally had the two of them eating out of her lap. Still naked, pie tin resting on her bare thighs, Dean was to her left in his boxers and Cas to her right in jeans and a tee. Feet propped up on the coffee table, Meg picked at the pie a little more, but Cas and Dean seemed more in to finishing it.

“I don’t understand, is this supposed to be a new character? He’s played by the same actor.”

Dean mumbled around a mouth full of pie, “It’s his long lost twin, his evil twin man, he’s got the eye patch and goatee, that’s like, Soaps 101.”

Cas licked off his fork. “I don’t believe there’s any correlation between facial hair and morality.”

Meg jostled his shoulder, “Have you ever met any guys with goatees? Fucking creeps.”

Dean grunted his agreement - probably - as he shoveled more pie into his stupidly pretty face. God he was even gorgeous with his cheeks puffed out and red cherry filling in the corner of his lips. Ungh. Gross.

Cas ate a few more neat bites in silence, before he sighed deeply again. “That’s not what forceps are for.”

Dean leaned over Meg’s lap to blink at Cas, “How would you know?”

Meg pushed him back into his seat, “Ok boys, can we can go five minutes of actually watching the show?”

Not like she minded the commentary, Cas was fucking clueless and it was hilarious. But she seriously hadn’t seen this season and they had some good drama going on. Cas and Dean quieted, shifted, both leaning closer in to her. Sunlight was starting to brighten the edges of the closed curtains over the window. It was kind of nice.

*

Three days previously

Cas picks up the phone on the third ring, it’s not usual to get phone calls after hours at the garage.

“Hello, Winchester Classics Restoration, Castiel speaking,” He answers like he answers any other call.

“Hello? Is this the next of kin for Dean Winchester?” A voice says. That alone makes Castiel’s stomach drop and he puts down the pen that was in his hand. Initially, Cas nods but quickly remembers that he’s talking to someone who can’t see him.

“Yes.” He replies, trying to keep his voice free from worry.

“Mr. Winchester is in the hospital, he was in a car incident this afternoon.” She explains. Castiel drops the phone.

“Hello? Hello?” Castiel can hear the voice on the other side but he’s off his chair and heading into the garage before anymore can be said.

“Benny!” He calls and the man comes out from behind a car.

“What’s up?” He says, but then sees Castiel’s ashen face. “Cas?”

Castiel wraps his arms around the burly man and presses his face into his chest. “Dean’s in the hospital, he was in an accident.” He cries.

“Okay, okay, angel, c’mon.” Benny strokes down the smaller man’s back and takes them back into the office. He sees that the phone is still on the counter and picks it up. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this still Castiel?”

“No, this is Benny Lafitte, I’m Dean’s next of kin as well, which hospital is he at?” Benny takes over confidently.

The woman on the end of the phone gives him the details and then Benny is dragging a panic stricken Cas to his truck while trying to keep his own panic at bay.

*

Present

Dean understands now, knows that he has something called retrograde amnesia, and that he can’t remember the last four years. He knows that the ring that was on his finger when he came in, isn’t Lisa’s and it belongs to a set of three.

He didn’t believe it at first. Not one guy, but two that he loves. It took him a while to work it out, get his head around it. Hell, the last thing he remembers was that he had a wife, so you can’t blame him that it was a little shock that he now had two boyfriends.

He sees them though, every afternoon. They’re nice people and he can definitely see why he was with them.

Dean remembers the first meeting with them, how upset Castiel was when he told him he didn’t know him. He didn’t mean to upset him, his brain clearly wasn’t working right. Benny on the other hand seemed to be taking it better, but he looked to be the guy who bottled up his emotions until someone can’t see him. A bit like himself.

They’re both perched on the end of his bed at the moment, Cas is straight faced looking at the set of cards in his hands, and Dean is watching Benny’s face carefully, there’s a small twitch at the corner of his lips.

Dean wins the round. And the next. Benny jokes that he always wins anyway, so it was no surprise that he still had it in him. It goes quiet then.

“I want to get back what I lost. I left four years behind in that crash. That’s a lot to catch up on. I clearly loved you both. And judging by the ring on the table, I love you a lot. I don’t want a knock on the head ruin it.” Dean tells them, sitting up straighter.

Benny smiles and Dean’s pretty sure there’s a tear or two in his eyes. “I’d like that too, Dean. You know, the doctor suggested that showing you stuff from the years you lost might trigger something. Even if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t mind repeating our first date together.” Benny chuckles. There’s a snort from Cas as well, which turns into a giggle.

“I am missing out!” Dean interjects among the laughter.

“Chief, you really are.” Benny turns to Cas. “Reckon we should let ‘im know, or keep it a secret?”