Dumat: The Dragon of Silence (nearestvessel) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-09-22 15:04:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, castiel, dean winchester, lucifer morningstar, samandriel |
Who: Lucifer Morningstar, Samandriel, Castiel & Dean Winchester
What: Samandriel feels like his men are keeping him at arm’s length because of what happened. He refuses to let this continue, and quietly makes it clear who is actually in charge (spoiler: It’s none of them.)
When: 9/19
Where: Lux, Lucifer’s
Rating: High. All the smut. Standard Samandriel warnings apply.
Status: Complete
Twice in the night did the tone of Samandriel’s song change. He started out joyful, filling Lux with as much music as possible, and hopefully the hearts of the people there at that time would be lighter for it. The angel’s triumphant return home.
It changed when he felt more than saw Dean and Castiel come in (and one of Dean’s thumbs still had all the paint on it, so Samandriel counted it as a win,) so something lightly romantic, a coming together that no one else there would notice and that edged into sadly wistful when he watched them go upstairs. It wasn’t long before Samandriel’s break, certainly, and they had sat to listen a while, but still he wanted to stay with them. Lucifer was probably trying to set something up comfortable for him, likely with food at the very least.
Regardless, Samandriel finished his sonata and had to do the very tedious task of actually walking up the stairs with his violin instead of simply being there. Nobody had yet called him out on the shirt that he was wearing, slightly too big at the collar (though the extra length in the sleeves was hidden in the way he rolled them up,) and, if one got close enough, that it smelled more like Lucifer than Samandriel usually did. He was certain people had noticed. Well, he was certain Lucifer had noticed and that was truly all that mattered.
He got upstairs to see Dean picking at food far out of his normal diet, almost like he wasn’t quite sure what it was, and the lights nice and dim to make best use of all the privacy glass that seemed somehow essential when Lucifer and Samandriel were alone in the room. He decided to lock the door behind him. Samandriel was nothing if not practical on occasion and he didn’t wish to make anyone get up if they didn’t have to.
He set his instrument down in the case on one of the tables, leaving the Winchesters to their own devices across from Lucifer while he kissed his lover. “Thank you.” It didn’t matter what for. Just like it didn’t really matter that Dean didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to eat that with your fingers.
"You're welcome," Lucifer told the younger man, and didn't bother asking for clarification. Manners were just appreciated. He eyed Samandriel in that larger shirt, gave an inaudible sigh over it, and then nodded with his head toward the spot next to him on the couch. "You should have something to eat."
"Hello, Samandriel," Castiel's tone was about as warm as it got from his spot at Dean's side on the couch. He had his own plate in his hands, but was making no real efforts to eat it -- clearly more amused to watch Dean eat. After all, he knew that wasn't a finger food, either.
The music had been wonderful as always -- had offered some sort of wordless reassurance, although for what, he wasn't sure. In any case, he'd enjoyed immensely listening and had been almost sad to go upstairs.
Samandriel sat next to Lucifer, the ropes under his clothes pulling him into a bit better posture than usual (what? he might’ve been a musician and ancient, but he was also still a teenager and prone to slouching sometimes,) while he looked fondly at his boyfriend. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”
His attention turned over to Castiel, gaze not only on his brother’s face but occasionally just over his shoulder at his wings. They truly were beautiful even if he hadn’t gotten a chance to properly touch yet.
“Can’t you get like...standard bar food only fancier?” Dean asked around a mouthful of he didn’t want to know. “Fries that maybe are actually fries and not like sweet potato rolled in fancy spices and topped with...friggen chives and a dollop of sour cream on the side? Is that sour cream?” He hadn’t gone after the sweet potato fries just yet. They seemed orange and intimidating.
Lucifer only rose an eyebrow at Samandriel, but didn't urge anything on him. He knew his angel didn't really need to eat these days -- it was more a creature comfort at this point. Still, he rather liked it when Samandriel indulged him over these things.
He turned his attention to Dean's griping with a nearly fond expression -- that tipped over into actual amusement when Castiel showed exactly what he thought of the sweet potato fries by finishing off his own and then reaching over to pick them off Dean's plate as well. At least someone had taste around here.
"No, I will not get standard bar food, Dean. If you don't like it, I'd be happy to order you something from off menu, but my kitchens here should not be belittled at least until you've tried what you're poking fun at."
Castiel smiled at the near chiding, but said nothing. Instead, he nibbled at his stolen food and turned his attention back to Samandriel -- very intentionally ruffling his wings and stretching them a little. It felt nice to be able to do it and know it was something someone else could see.
Dean might not have been able to see the wings, but he was getting used to the changes in Cas’ mannerisms now that he had them. That was friggen’ preening was what that was. He just handed over the rest of whatever was on his plate. Cas seemed to like it. “I just want a friggen regular quesadilla and not like...whatever weird alfredo sauce thing you’ve got going. And floppy, none of that messed up crispy tortilla crap to stab you in the roof of your mouth.”
Dean at least managed to wipe his hands on a napkin like a civilized human being. He took a swig of his coke and looked critically at Samandriel, the way his clothing laid, the fitted vest not quite the way it was supposed to be tailored on him now that he was sitting and not in so much motion that it was hard to keep track of him.
“Nylon or cotton?” he asked, turning his attention back to Lucifer. There wasn’t judgment in his tone, but in his gaze there was a very clear message ‘are you sure that was a good idea to do to him so soon?’
To Samandriel’s credit, he managed not to blush too brightly or cough while he took a sip of his juice, pointedly looking at anything but either of the two men to whom he deferred authority. “Silk.”
Lucifer only offered a motion that was nearly a shrug over it and a look that clearly said he had nothing to do with all that. But he was definitely going to take it. Samandriel was a little more brazen on occasion than people tended to give him credit for -- Lucifer included. The younger man had done himself up in that rope, showed Lucifer and then grinned like a little imp before going off to work.
"Silk," he agreed, and then really did shrug, as if to ask Dean if he really expected anything cheaper to come out of Lucifer's household, he pulled himself to his feet, moving toward the door. "I'll go see about your food," his tone said very much what he thought about Dean's lack of class when it came to food.
Castiel only took Dean's plate, poking around at the sweet potato like it was the best thing he'd ever had and was already devising ways to make it in his own kitchen, and then let his eyes wander over Samandriel in question, as if trying to see what everyone else was talking about. He cocked his head to the side slightly and squinted. And then blushed a little when he finally seemed to catch on to what was so obvious to everyone else. "Oh."
“Don’t” Dean said calmly. “I’ve got pie in the fridge.” Not that Lux didn’t do a good (too fancy) pie, but he had leftovers from a successful afternoon with Scud and he was going to enjoy them. Caramel fucking Apple. Yes.
Instead, he leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the couch to look over and speak at Lucifer. “You gonna show him off like he clearly wants or are you just going to let him sit there and imagine it?”
It might’ve been rude, but really it was only a little bit of a smack upside the head, fingertips honestly, as Samandriel passed by Dean on his way to Cas. Dean had been rude first. It was deserved. “May I touch them?” he asked, hand hovering just near one of Castiel’s wings.
Lucifer only rolled his eyes at the request even as he turned back toward his seat. He wouldn't make a fuss over food if Dean wouldn't, and in any case, he hadn't quite wanted to leave the room anyway. Pointedly, he ignored the little smack, and Dean's suggestion. Lucifer Morningstar was never in any rush, after all.
Cas leaned forward to set his plate on the table in front of them, and then after a short glance at Dean, offered Samandriel a nod that was nearly shy before rolling his shoulders backward and spreading his wings a little more. No one had ever touched his wings before, and he wasn't certain what to expect. Samandriel's had been sensitive though, and so he cautiously wondered if it would be the same for him. "Please."
For Lucifer’s benefit, Samandriel spread his wings and brought them to where his lover could see them and perhaps Dean might be able to catch a cast shadow. Well, Lucifer’s and Castiel’s, but soon he probably wouldn’t have to bring them out for Castiel which was really a lovely thought. His skilled fingers shifted gently along the straight edge of the main bone near the joint, trailing along delicate feathers before reaching the peak and shifting down. That this was something Cas would never be able to get from Dean saddened Samandriel, made it feel somehow unfair that he had a lover of his own who could see and feel his wings and Castiel didn’t.
The younger angel took the time to straighten a few feathers, smoothing them out in a way he hoped felt good to his brother.
Dean watched it all as best he could. It wasn’t that it looked simply like Samandriel was touching air. It was more that his eyes just couldn’t focus on what his fingers were doing exactly like his body knew that this was something he couldn’t really see or wasn’t supposed to see. If he did try to focus, hands touching air was probably the best description, and watching the gesture of his body did help him to sort of understand the scale of things.
Watching was kind of giving him a headache though, and so Dean turned his attention back to the food and took a bit of what might have been eggplant to eat instead. He was trying new things. It should be rewarded.
It was nice. Maybe more than nice -- Samandriel's fingers on his wings, the touch light, kind and oddly meaningful. Castiel sighed, a contented little noise and his eyes dropped closed, his expression going nearly peaceful.
He had been, admittedly, very stressed lately. First with the week prior, and then with Dean. Dean, who was constantly difficult, and more distant than usual and -- well. He knew there was effort happening, he could see it happening, but Cas had yet been able to bring it up without that feeling of dread and worry sinking into his bones. Not yet.
But for now, this was good. Samandriel stroking at his feathers and Dean beside him. Even Lucifer, who just gazed at them all with an expression that Castiel couldn't quite figure out but seemed strangely close to pride. Cas half smiled, fingers sliding over to brush against Dean's thigh.
And Lucifer watched, contented to see the three of them close in ways that not many were, even if Dean seemed like he was on the outskirts of it.
Samandriel continued to smooth and order Castiel’s feathers in a way he knew the other man would like even more if he could see them (and that his hair increasingly as of late seemed to not be managing,) humming quietly to himself. He looked up at Lucifer and smirked, brushing his nose playfully against a dark wing he knew his boyfriend could see, half hidden behind it. When the backs of Castiel’s wings were nice and sorted, he tipped his head to steal a slow, meaningful kiss (even if it was mostly upside down and kind of spider-man-y,) before going over to sit himself right down in Lucifer’s lap.
Dean, for his part, found that the mushrooms were way better than they looked and while Cas was getting his wing-massage, managed to eat all of them. He wiped his mouth neatly on a napkin (what? he wasn’t a complete caveman,) and looked up to see Samandriel’s shit eating grin on Lucifer’s lap and that he managed to get the other man’s hand right on the buttons of his vest all but implying that someone was going to undress him, please and thank you.
“Glad you’re pleased with yourself, cherub, but you really need to learn how to hide crap under your clothes better.”
Lucifer's sigh was only a little put upon, even as he glanced from the buttons of Samandriel's vest to Dean. "Are you both trying to be difficult with each other today?" Somehow, it came out fondly. He undid only two of the buttons on Samandriel's vest before moving his hands away to settle them on his boyfriend's hips. If he wanted something of this nature, Lucifer was under the impression that he should at least ask before going silently demanding. Of course, knowing Sam, that wouldn't really be how it ended up, but it was nice to have delusions of grandeur in the meantime.
Castiel licked his lower lip and looked surprisingly calm and collected, considering the situation. He readjusted on the couch, folding his wings compactly against his back and settled his hands loosely in his lap. "I hadn't noticed anything off about his wardrobe until you pointed it out." Not the most helpful angel on the block, Castiel, but at least he was making attempts at participation.
“That’s because you weren’t paying attention to his wardrobe,” Dean pointed out dryly.
“He’s actually not trying to be difficult,” Samandriel said, undoing the rest of the buttons himself. “He’s trying to be respectful. Apparently he’s very keen on pleasing you.” Samandriel looked over his shoulder and arched a brow that said he very much was getting full details on that later but not that he minded at all. “I, however, am absolutely trying to be difficult, but if you’d like...” He got off Lucifer’s lap and removed his waistcoat and tie, ignoring the fact that Dean was adorably crimson.
"You're both succeeding," Lucifer murmured, bemused and almost sorry for Dean all at the same time. Still, watching Samandriel undress was one of his more favored pastimes, and he saw no real reason not to keep his eyes on his boyfriend, even if the younger angel was being a brat. Maybe especially because he was, actually.
Castiel hung on every one of Samandriel's words, and had to look away from them all and toward his lap in order to keep that familiar surge of jealousy down. It was unfair of him, and he was aware of it, but that didn't make it any lesser. "Mm," he agreed with Dean, tone mild, as if not really catching on to the implication that his husband was making.
Dean looked over at Castiel, studying him for a moment before he said roughly, “go help your brother get his shirt off.” If Cas was going to sulk, Dean would give him a reason to. “Pants stay on.” Dean got up and went to go sit next to Lucifer instead. There was a much better angle on the angels from there.
It was an interesting thing to watch -- the interactions between Castiel and Dean, and Lucifer wasn't really sure what to think about it. It was clear that Castiel wasn't as keen on sharing as Dean seemed to be. It was a bit hypocritical, but not something Lucifer didn't understand. He only rose his eyebrow at the brunet angel before beckoning Dean closer, settling his arm casually on the back of the couch behind the other man.
Castiel, if anything, only got sulkier. It wasn't an offense to his brother so much as a brief sting of hurt and annoyance at Dean for not understanding that he was actually making an effort at behaving himself. Castiel was certain he tried harder than anyone else bothered realizing.
Still, he did as asked, because he couldn't handle the idea of falling any further out of Dean's good graces this week. Instead of standing to meet Samandriel across the room he flew -- a waste of power, really, but Cas was going to take his pleasure where he could get it. "Hello," he said to Samandriel, as if to make it clear to his brother he had no ill will, even as his fingers deftly worked at the buttons of that too-large shirt.
Dean knew how much of an effort Cas was making and it wasn’t enough. The angel was going to have to get used to this. Dean was willing to tolerate a lot of things, but being bossed around by Cas wasn’t really one of them not when Cas clearly much much prefered it to be the other way around. He sat intentionally closer to Lucifer, allowing the owner of that fine establishment to look exactly as possessive as he pleased.
Samandriel slipped out of the shirt, revealing the top half intricate map of knotwork he’d managed to get himself into, all dark purples against his pale skin. He’d gone for that instead of the red just to keep too many other thoughts away from his men. He pulled Castiel close by his tie and kissed him slow and earnest, rising up slightly on his toes to reach. “We all play tonight,” he whispered. “Know that it’s done with love for all of us and not to hurt.” Samandriel needed Cas to know that he could feel how his brother felt, understood and yet also needed him to work past that.
Lucifer offered Dean a reassuring touch -- hand moving through his hair until he found that spot that had made Dean pleased enough to purr the other day. He leaned closer, eyes still on the angels, but mouth next to Dean's ear. "You can hardly blame a man for being so strongly in love he has a hard time sharing. Give him time, he'll come around. This isn't an easy concept for many."
Resting his forehead on Samandriel's, Cas brushed his fingers against the rope and knots, interested despite himself. "Were it so simple, brother, don't you think I would have already let it go?" His tone was hushed, barely a whisper, but he knew that Samandriel would hear him, just like he knew the other angel would note his sting of embarrassed guilt and frustration.
Samandriel arched into that touch, reaching carefully to undo the knot of his tie and then the small buttons on his shirt. He treated Castiel as though he were nothing less than precious. “It is so simple,” he whispered. “He is yours in a way no one else will ever be to him. All shot through with bits of your Grace shoring up his weak spots and making him whole. Lucifer is as much of a threat to Dean as I am to you. So breathe, my dear brother, and learn to let it go and it will all feel so much better.” He kissed him, pushing shirt and coats off of his brother’s shoulder, letting his confidence build up Castiel’s.
Dean bit his lower lip, eyes fluttering briefly closed. That spot was still really sensitive, and those lips against his ears were helping nothing. “I know,” Dean said, watching them, “but coddling him isn’t going to make that transition any easier.” He turned his head towards Lucifer and spoke softer, “I’d like to see what happens if you give him an order.”
"You know him better than I do," Lucifer replied in murmured acquiescence, his lips brushing against the shell of Dean's ear when he spoke. He knew, of course, Samandriel could hear. But their whispered words were only really meant to be hidden from Castiel anyway. Lucifer had no secrets from his own boyfriend.
If he had to be honest, he was a little curious to see how Castiel would respond to a command that wasn't carried out by Dean as well. He let Samandriel finish speaking -- although he couldn't hear the words the brothers were sharing, Lucifer imagined they were important. Samandriel was often more wise that people gave him credit for. When they seemed to be done speaking, Lucifer leaned back enough to clear his throat in a spot that wasn't directly into Dean's ear. "Castiel," he said the name clearly, like every syllable was as important as the last. "I think it would do you well to relax more. Why don't you remove the rest of your clothing?" In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't asking for much.
And yet, even after Samandriel's kindly whispered words and encouragement, Lucifer's tone still made Castiel tense visibly. His wings bristled at his back, folding in more if it was possible, and he turned away from his brother and toward the two on the couch. Immediately his eyes sought out Dean's, and there was a clear question there.
Dean nodded. “You should be treating orders from Lucifer as you do orders from me, Castiel,” he said simply, trying to ignore the way Lucifer said his husband’s name like it was absolutely made out of sex. Dean’s attention turned to Samandriel, “why don’t you join him, hm? Clothes off, cherub. Let’s see all your handiwork.” He found himself only realizing that he’d tilted his head to expose his neck to Lucifer when he could feel that warm breath just there.
Samandriel was only too happy to oblige removing his clothes, and in truth there weren’t many left after he’d convinced Lucifer to please let him play barefoot so he could feel the music properly. Pants and boxers (also Lucifer’s because his own were really too snug,) came off and he turned to run soothing fingers down Castiel’s back, softly trying to remind his brother that he was there, that he loved him and that every single pair of eyes in the room was paying attention to him, to Castiel’s pleasure above everything else even though he might not be getting what he wanted.
Castiel wondered, faintly, if he should be more concerned about this in a completely different aspect. Not even fully an angel yet, and he'd already somehow been coerced by Dean to defect from his Father and to treat the devil's words as if they were holy. Samandriel was good, he knew, but that didn't necessarily make it right.
Not wanting to deal with the pain of a theology debate, he pushed the thought aside almost harshly and instead focused on breathing like Samandriel had suggested in the first place. The touch against his back helped, but Cas focused more on the floor as he removed his shoes and socks, and then undid his belt before sliding those and his boxers from his hips. He wouldn't have been himself if he didn't pick all of his clothes up and neatly set them into a pile when he was done.
"Very good," Lucifer said, and tried to make it as soothingly complimentary as possible. His eyes, though, didn't move from Samandriel. Even when he tilted his head down a little to press simple kisses to Dean's neck.
Dean’s eyes shut briefly before he shifted out of his own coat to get more comfortable. The removal of his clothing, he decided, was going in Lucifer’s hands. His gaze found Samandriel again, making quiet note of the whole display in front of him. It was knowing that Samandriel would hear him speaking at a level that Cas couldn’t hope to that had him whispering, “you have wings, Cherub, doesn’t matter that I can’t see ‘em or feel ‘em, he can.”
Samandriel’s ear twitched and he looked over at Dean, catching Lucifer tasting that neck. Smoothly, he walked over there while Castiel busied himself with being neat about his clothing and whispered in French in his pre-fiancé’s ear, “They both need to be worked hard. The kitten is the only one aware that he wants it yet.” He kissed the join of Lucifer’s jaw and returned in a thought to Castiel, or near enough anyway to spread one wing and reach out to trace the tip of a feather up his brother’s spine, back to the other men so that Lucifer could at least watch the spread of things.
Lucifer considered those words, rolling them over in his head until they made better sense -- not because French was a difficult language (it wasn't) -- but because he wasn't sure if he agreed or not. Just because Samandriel was easy going and took things well didn't mean the other two would. Still, his lover may have had a point.
Twisting a little, he turned toward Dean, fingers moving to undo his tie, and then the little buttons of his shirt. "You're behind," he told the other man, still looking a bit thoughtful. Nearly, he wanted to suggest going back to his place, but wasn't sure anyone was really ready for that.
Castiel shivered slightly, arching his back into the ghosted touch of Samandriel's wings and ruffling his own in vague response. He couldn't seem to take his eyes away from Dean and Lucifer, intimate on their own couch and had to force himself away from it. Beseechingly, he looked at Samandriel, blue eyes saying more than his mouth ever might. Kiss me.
Gently, Samandriel guided Castiel back to the couch, sat him down and straddled him while they kissed, ropes shifting to pinch a bit tighter and the plug in his rear drawing a pleasant moan from deep in the back of his throat while he moved against him.
Lucifer may not have thought they were ready for it, but Dean was almost sure they needed to not be doing this at Lux, not with Samandriel making all those pretty noises and the chances of someone hearing them at all real. “Possibly we should move this somewhere more private,” he murmured, shifting to allow Lucifer more room.
"I agree." Lucifer never really planned for things to go this far when they were here, he honestly didn't. Samandriel was just good at getting what he wanted basically whenever and wherever he wanted it. But Dean's point was a good one. Reluctantly, he pulled his fingers away from Dean's shirt and glanced over at the angels. …Had Samandriel been wearing that plug this whole time? That little shit. He smiled fondly, anyway.
"You heard that, Sam," he told his angel. "We're moving. I suggest you gather your clothing."
Castiel blinked at that, toes curling into themselves on the expensive hardwood floors, and buried his face momentarily in the curve of Samandriel's shoulder before the other angel could stand. He was pleased for the suggestion of moving from here though, this place made him nervous in that it was entirely too public, no matter how unconcerned everyone else seemed about it. And in any case, it would give him a moment to touch Dean, something he desperately needed.
Samandriel sighed, got up and picked up both his and Castiel’s clothing. “Living room,” he said to Castiel over his shoulder, and with a nod of his head towards Lucifer, made sure Cas knew he meant theirs and not the Winchesters’. He kissed his lover and was gone with him, the last thing he was aware was movement from Dean.
Dean got up, smoothed his hand over Cas hair and held his gaze, giving his husband this moment alone so he could gather himself. “Priority one,” he said, hoping that Cas got the whole message. “Priorities two.” He pointed to where Samandriel and Lucifer had been just moments ago. “You can do this and I will be nothing but proud of you for it. Promise, beautiful.”
Cas considered that for a moment, licking his bottom lip and letting his eyes skitter across the floors and the ceiling before ending right back on Dean. "Priority one," he repeated, and then offered a half a nod and a shaky sigh before leaning into the touch a little more, curling his fingers around Dean's wrist. "I know. I'm trying. I'll do better." Because if nothing else, he wanted desperately for Dean to be proud of him, there was little Castiel liked more than that silent smile that Dean gave him. Only him.
"I promise." And then he thought on it and their location changed completely, their privacy gone. Castiel, though, was visibly more relaxed.
"Much better," Lucifer said, still standing near Samandriel -- both of their lips bruised red, as if to show what they'd been doing with their extra seconds.
Samandriel smirked, but settled right back into his role as Lucifer’s partner, one who really should be seeing to their guests’ pleasure. Well, one guest. Lucifer had clearly marked Dean as his own for the time being, not that Samandriel would really be opposed if that changed, but he was fine with it as is for now.
“You should untie me,” he said, fingers brushing along Castiel’s toned stomach, a kiss following against his shoulder.
Dean shook off the weird feeling that came with traveling like that as best he could and sat down to let the rest of that feeling pass. He was getting used to it now and it only took a couple breaths before he sat up and actually did slide the rest of the way out of the shirt Lucifer had unbuttoned.
Lucifer offered a sympathetic look over the teleportation dizziness (he'd gotten it the first time around, but perhaps was just built differently, since it didn't bother him at all now), and settled himself down next to Dean, tugging him closer for a kiss that was more bite than lips. Eventually he'd turn his attention to all three of them, but for now, considered Samandriel to be the right calming presence for Dean's angel.
That reaction snapped something in Dean and he sat up properly, looking Darkly at Castiel as though that kind of reaction from the angel was not at all acceptable. It wasn’t needlessly shaming. There was a certain level of respect that had to be upheld in someone else’s home, especially if you were fucking in that place by their invitation. That Cas had the gall to not only silently (though visibly to Dean and probably more than that to Samandriel,) cross that line but to act like he wasn’t really sorry helped his case not at all.
“You have a choice, Castiel,” he said firmly. “You either actually apologize both to myself and Lucifer for your rudeness and mean it or you go home and stay there until you actually understand why that was unacceptable behavior.”
Samandriel could feel the tension in the room and wanted very much to make himself smaller somehow, but stayed where he was told to be. This was going to be a nightmare, somehow he just knew it.
While Lucifer hadn't really been bothered, he could rather see where Castiel had gone a bit bratty over it -- and if he had to be honest, he didn't think Dean's options on the matter were unfair. He turned his gaze to Samandriel, felt a little bad for his angel and sent some calming thoughts his way.
Castiel's shoulders sank at the tone Dean had taken on and he had to fight back the urge to look at the floor. He knew, in this instance, that it was not wise to break eye contact with his husband. While currently it might almost be a relief to go home, he knew that in a few minutes it wouldn't be, not at all. Because then he'd be forced to sit there and think and wonder and -- well. He couldn't do it.
"I'm sorry, Dean," he said, and even if his tone was a hard gravel, it was clear he meant it. He only broke the gaze in order to look at Lucifer next, and this time his tone wasn't nearly as rough, but quieter, a little wrecked. "I'm sorry, Lucifer."
“Good boy, Castiel,” Dean said, sitting back to relax on the couch again. “Go on.”
"Thank you, Castiel." Lucifer said it kindly, like he understood the effort that had been made, and appreciated it. He glanced at Dean, ran finger across his jawline almost idly.
Castiel nodded, posture still tense as he turned back to Samandriel. "I'm sorry," he said to his brother as well, because at this point he was sure Samandriel deserved an apology too. And then, not wanting to make anyone suffer more, he got on with it. He petted his fingers through the other angel's wings, and pulled that little plug out.
The noise that came out of Samandriel was positively pornographic when the plug eased out. He arched his back, looking over his shoulder at first Lucifer and then his brother. “Please, Castiel,” he whined, able to see his brother’s wings in a way no one else could, the way he slightly changed how he carried himself now to compensate for things that were both there and not. Somehow, from this angle, he looked so very much like the warrior he was meant to be and Samandriel wondered how much else might be changing in his brother. It didn’t last long, of course, because his gaze slipped down from the tops of those wings to his obscenely toned chest and abdomen and the start of hair and the parts of his own body that hid what he really wanted to see.
Dean took the gesture from Lucifer as what he thought it was meant to be, a subtle note that he wasn’t going to let Dean blaze out of control. He tipped his head back with it, letting it slip down his spine before he turned and kissed the devil slowly.
That was the exact gesture that Lucifer had been intending, and he was pleased that Dean seemed to get it without needing to be actually told. Lucifer was the perfect counterbalance to Dean, because he so rarely got angry -- he ran cold, calm, collected and was more often than not able to distance himself from situations in ways that it was obvious Dean wasn't. It could be good for them all in the long run.
Kissing Dean was easy, and only better when the Winchester gave it so freely with no fight at all. Lucifer was happy to explore the other man's mouth with his tongue, even while tuning in to the little whining noises coming from Samandriel.
"Okay, yes, I know." Castiel was murmuring to his brother, fingers slicked with the lubricant that had started this mess (was that irony?) even though he knew he didn't really have to worry about making the younger angel ready. He was aware that he'd already angered Dean once, and was now trying to make up for it by putting on a show. His fingers slid into the younger man so easily that it made him give a little whine of his own.
Samandriel whined even louder, wings stretching while he thrust back against those fingers. “Fuck me, Castiel,” he pleaded, voice half wrecked already. He thought he’d waited long enough. He just wanted to feel Castiel in him and the other angel using the root of his wing as leverage to fuck him with and god. “Please.” Lucifer would be disappointed if he didn’t say please after all.
Dean groaned softly into Lucifer’s mouth, one hand resting at the close of the other man’s pants, asking silently but not demanding. He owed the guy a blowjob didn’t he? And all that rope on the floor was giving Dean way too many ideas that he didn’t really want to say, ones that involved properly restraining the kid’s legs (and maybe his arms too, but they’d need another length of rope for that,) and not letting him come until he was at least three times as broken as he sounded. Which really brought him back to the moment and he pulled away to speak to his own angel.
“Castiel,” he purred, all kinds of deviousness in his tone. “Before you get yourself all slick, pop back home and get the cockrings.” He looked over at Samandriel. “You too, cherub.”
Lucifer wondered if it was bad that Dean's words made him laugh. No. It wasn't bad. He nodded approvingly -- to all of what Dean was suggesting, and felt no need to repeat the order. He could get used to a hierarchy like this.
Cas made a desperate little moaning noise at that, but it wasn't so much in frustration or protest as it was an interest and an attempt at keeping himself in one piece as he removed his fingers from Samandriel. Before anything else could be said, he was gone from the room.
Samandriel too was gone, but when he came back, had already gotten his on. It was clear in the way he carried himself that he was very much enjoying every moment of this. He didn’t go right back into position, though. Instead he moved the coffee table out of the way, picked up the discarded rope and knelt in front of Lucifer, presenting himself with his forearms pressed together.
“You think too loudly,” he said to Dean, and then smiling up at his lover added, “he doesn’t want me touching myself.” Not the whole of what had been broadcasted from Dean’s head, but it was a fair enough translation. “Please, Lucifer?”
Dean rolled his eyes, turning a bit pink while Samandriel sort of outed him. He got up and grabbed a couple throw pillows from the couches and armchairs. There was no way the kid was going to be able to keep his balance on the couch with his arms bound like that. When Lucifer finished caring for him, he’d give the kid a kiss (a first, since he hadn’t let their lips touch the last time they’d played like this,) to reward him for such very good behavior.
Lucifer knew that this was what Samandriel wanted -- couldn't really object too much, considering the younger man had tied himself up earlier. Still, there were some slight reservations to be had, and Lucifer's rope work took longer than it probably should have for such a simple tie. He did it though, because Samandriel always got what he wanted, and his behavior was Good.
He pressed a kiss to the top of Samandriel's forehead when he was done.
And then Castiel reappeared, looking a little shy, but not nearly as argumentative as he had been not too long ago. "Dean," he murmured, practically fucking demurred, and stood by his husband, offering over what he'd been asked to retrieve.
Dean let Samandriel and Lucifer have their moment while he walked over to Cas, taking first one cockring and putting it on his husband and then getting the other on himself. He kissed Castiel slowly and backed away with a loving tug on his husband’s cock.
Then he walked over to Samandriel and helped him up, by the time he got the kid settled on his knees on the cushions, he kissed him deep and affectionate, a small reward for how good he was being. Dean eased Samandriel down onto his forearms, smoothed his hair back and stood up to return to Lucifer’s side.
Samandriel was the picture of contentment as he shifted again to get more comfortable when Dean got him settled. “Castiel, please?” he asked, looking enticingly up at him.
Lucifer looked a little more than impressed at all of their behaviors, actually had to cross his legs to distract himself from the fact that he would also be a bit better off not wearing pants. "Good," he said, to no one in particular, but offered Dean the spot at his side again, fingers grazing over bare hips and muscle.
Cas licked his lips like he could still taste Dean on them and then gave a little sigh before settling himself behind the other angel. "As you like," he said, feeling a bit overwhelmed but not necessarily in a bad way. Slicking himself again, he didn't bother teasing this time because being interrupted was starting to become a habit and he wanted very much to break that cycle. He kissed the base of Samandriel's wings when he entered the angel -- slow, but not hesitant.
Samandriel groaned loudly, loving the way Cas filled him so differently than the plug did. He loved this, and that he couldn’t reach back and touch himself made it so much better. Lips on the base of his wings were just the right amount of tenderness in comparison to everything else. He lifted his head and looked back at Castiel through his wings. “Thank you, Castiel.” It was polite, and his own version of ‘as you like,’ that wouldn’t be completely obvious to Dean.
Dean caught those words from Castiel and found that he didn’t mind at all. Of course Castiel would love the kid, just like Dean was growing fonder of him (he wasn’t ready to admit to love for something as bouncy as Samandriel,) and was already there with Lucifer. But then, Lucifer understood him in ways that the other two didn’t. He leaned into Lucifer’s touch, leaning up to whisper against the devil’s ear. “I feel like you should know that once he’s absolutely wrecked about it, I plan to fuck him into your boy.”
"I thought that was obvious," Lucifer said, and didn't think it strange at all that it came out fondly. This made sense to him, the same way that just Samandriel made sense to him -- and it was something he'd decided around the time that Dean had come to him when he'd thought he was only alone. They'd built their own little family, and he was contented to see them all happy with one another.
It was a little difficult, but he turned his gaze away from the angels and cupped Dean's cheek in the palm of his hand before kissing him with deliberate slowness.
Castiel did not answer with words -- they were not his strength and he didn't need them now, he was glad for it. Instead, he just found a pace that was wasn't overly harsh for either of them -- as much as he might have liked thrusting a little harder into the younger angel, the idea of not getting release was making him hold back. He didn't want to come across the feeling of excruciating need and want so quickly.
Samandriel moaned, punctuating every thrust. He loved all of this, every moment of it, and that Cas was bare inside him made it somehow so much better. “Harder,” he gasped. Castiel might’ve wanted them both to have a slow build to desperate, but the need radiating off of Dean was far more intense and in line with Samandriel’s own thinking. “Fuck me.”
Dean kissed him back, fingers finding the close of his pants again, reaching to undo them no matter that Lucifer’s legs were still crossed. He wanted that dick in his mouth before he went to make Castiel’s life that much harder. “Let me?” he asked against those lips. “Please?”
Manners suited Dean beautifully and Lucifer would be remiss to turn the other man down when he asked so beautifully (and because he wasn't really selfless. He'd like very much for the attention). He nodded, lips and nose brushing against Dean's when he moved. He uncrossed his legs, too, because he was nothing if not helpful.
"I am," Castiel responded to Samandriel, but even the most literal of the bunch knew what was being asked of him. More, more, more. He knew this game because it was what he asked of Dean more often than not. It was hard not to oblige; Samandriel was good, and he had rather missed this. Digging his fingers into Samandriel's hips he lost any sense of rhythm he had around the same time he lost his breath. But it was faster and harder and better despite his earlier reservations. He wasn't certain if it was Samandriel whining, or himself.
“Yes,” Samandriel cried out, moaning without abandon while Castiel drove into him. “Oh god, please Castiel. Please. Feels so good.” Samandriel stretched his wings arching to try to get Castiel to touch him more there. It had been requested at the beginning after all.
Dean opened those pants and eased the rest of Lucifer’s clothing off. He settled down on his knees between the other man’s legs and took him slowly in his mouth, groaning around it. All he was aware of was Lucifer and the groan from behind him, Samandriel’s wrecked voice calling Dean’s own name as he noticed what was happening.
Lucifer's fingers were in Dean's hair -- automatically seeking out that sensitive spot where the ears they weren't talking about used to be. He was aware that he was murmuring something faintly complimentary to the other man, encouraging even as he tilted his hips slightly upward. His gaze, though, was on Samandriel. His poor wrecked angel who was enjoying himself enough to be running off with his own words It was beyond attractive. Really, they all were.
Castiel couldn't look; couldn't watch Dean working his mouth on Lucifer. Dean was beautiful in ways that Cas couldn't describe -- he remembered that first time he'd seen Dean do this to someone else, to Samandriel. He'd cried then, and it'd been too overwhelming for many reasons. He refused to do it now, too. Instead, he focused further on Samandriel -- fingers on wings and stroking at them, hips moving almost too sharply. It was too much. "I can't," he said, voice breaking, but wasn't even sure what it was he couldn't do.
Samandriel couldn’t really either between watching Dean and feeling Cas fucking him and playing with his wings. It was overwhelming, and despite all that he wanted more. It was like those two words out of Castiel’s mouth only signified the beginning of the brief snatches of conversation he’d heard from Dean and Lucifer before. Samandriel was beyond words, could only manage sounds and to his own ears they were all on the same level of desperate as his words had been.
Dean kept working leisurely over Lucifer’s dick, enjoying the soft touches and softer praise. He waited there, taking his time before he finally stood up and kissed Lucifer deeply. It wasn’t as though Lucifer didn’t know the whole of Dean’s plan: fuck Cas into Samandriel and then make them watch while he and Lucifer took their time finishing.
“Stop,” he said behind Cas, picking up the lube and resting a hand between his shoulderblades to get him to bend forward. Dean didn’t give him time to catch his breath before he was slicking his fingers and pressing one slowly into Cas. “You know, maybe we should be using your birthday present after all. Seems to save time.”
Castiel had not been lying when he said he couldn't handle it, and Dean's words alone right now probably would have been enough to put him over the edge if he wasn't wearing the ring. So really, when Dean added his fingers to the mix, Cas knew he was just ruined. He arched into the touch, dipping his head low so that it rested on the curve of Samandriel's neck, and his ass displayed as high as he could really get it without removing himself from the younger angel.
Dean's name turned into a reverent chant on his lips between begging whimpers. Please please please, he wanted to say, but it only came out as "Dean."
It wasn't hard for Lucifer to be transfixed just watching, too easy for him to just rearrange himself on the couch, almost idly stroking himself, like his own pleasure was second tier to theirs. And in a way, that always rang a bit true.
Dean slowly added a second finger. “You know what happens after this? After I fuck you into him and you beg well enough to be allowed to come?” He worked them torturously slow, watching every bit of muscle in Cas’ back the way the angel beneath his husband managed the strength to support him and still seem to enjoy himself. “You and your brother are going to sit back and watch Lucifer give a demonstration on what it means to take your time.” Three fingers. “And you’ll be on your best behaviour for it. Now, say please and I’ll stop teasing you.”
Cas looked around the room -- having only been here before under extreme circumstances -- and then gave Samandriel a resolute sort of nod, as if trying to make an obvious note about the shift in his mood. Or the attempted shift. Either way.
He eyed the knots for a moment, circling Samandriel as if to get the whole view of it, and then moved his fingers easily to the tie below the younger angel's waist -- clearly the end to the intricate work. "You did this very well," he complimented, and no one should have been very surprised that this was about as close as Castiel came to effectively flirting.
Samandriel smiled, taking Castiel’s tone for what it was easily. “Thank you,” he said, and once the knotted ends themselves were undone, he tipped Castiel’s chin up to kiss him, guiding his brother’s hands to pull and move the rope in just the right way to undo the sturdily tied slipknots. Silk was good for this. It had a bit of tooth to it.
He tried not to think about what was downstairs, all the things they could use because he knew nobody was ready for him in that space yet. Samandriel didn’t even think he was quite ready for it. Free of the bindings, Samandriel sunk down to his knees in front of Cas, wanting to taste that cock before he got it in him.
Dean growled a little into the kiss, meeting the challenge and pressing back firmly against Lucifer. For now, he was allowed to attempt to assert dominance, but he knew that wasn’t going to last long. Still, Lucifer had liked his fire. It was only fair he actually get some of it.
Lucifer did like his fire, much in the same way that he liked Samandriel's brazen amounts of attitude, or, hell, even the way he liked just how resolutely stubborn Castiel seemed to be. The idea of bedding a doormat was the most uninteresting he could think of. So this was fun -- kissing Dean who put up a good show just for the sake of it. His fingers ended up in Dean's hair -- half pulling half petting.
"You're welcome," Castiel said, gaze turning toward his husband, watching him kiss Lucifer before looking back to Samandriel, a little surprised to find him on his knees. He licked his too dry bottom lip again, cocked his head to the side. "As you like, Samandriel," he brushed his fingers through the younger angel's hair. Priority one. Priorities two. It was okay.
“You too,” Samandriel said, stroking Castiel slow and steady before teasing just a bit, small licks and nudges and then finally finally taking him in his mouth. He really, really liked sucking cock, and with his eyes closed he could focus on the sounds Cas was making while he did it.
Dean nipped sharply at Lucifer’s lower lip almost demanding to be brought to heel while he worked at undressing Lucifer with all of the urgency he could muster while not actually ruining clothing. “Which of us is behind now?” The answer, of course, was still both of them, but that didn’t seem to matter.
"Still you," Lucifer said, sounding amused, but didn't much object to his own undressing, considering he helped Dean out by shrugging out of his shirt once it was unbuttoned. He pulled away before glancing over at their angels and seemed pleased enough they were having a good time, but then gave a slight pause -- settling his palm on Dean's chest.
"Neither of you gets off," he told them very pointedly, "until I tell you you can."
And then he turned back to Dean, tilting his head back with another grip in his hair and nipped sharply at his adam's apple. "The same for you."
Cas couldn't even make himself frown at those words, although he knew he probably should have. He had his wings out again, wrapped around himself and Samandriel both, although he wasn't focusing enough where Lucifer might see them, so it was really a false sense of privacy. Little noises in the back of his throat kept threatening to escape and he was watching Samandriel work at his erection with a near sense of wonder. "Oh," he said, breathy and mild, and regretted very much not standing by anything he might lean on.
Samandriel moaned lowly in both acknowledgement and quiet protest. He knew he’d done it to himself, really, ratcheting up his already nearly insatiable sex drive with the plug he’d been wearing all night. That didn’t make it any less intense, didn’t mean he didn’t desperately want any of them in him. He pulled back away from where he was challenging Castiel’s balance and stood again to kiss him and guide him over to the other couch. “Your wings feel amazing, you know,” he murmured, enjoying what he got of them from Cas.
While the other two angels seemed to have no problem at all accepting that they’d have to get permission to come, Dean got a little growly about it. Or he would have more if his hair wasn’t being pulled roughly back and the threat of more marks on his skin loomed. He pulled against Lucifer’s grip, well aware that his hair was only just barely long enough to hold onto. He might be able to break the hold easily enough, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “You got a plan for this, Lucifer?” he asked, struggling just enough to keep things interesting.
"Does it matter?" Lucifer grazed his teeth over Dean's throat, catching slightly on any rise or bump of skin before he wound up closer yet, nearly straddling the other man's lap. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"
Cas was grateful to finally end up on the couch and more than happily pulled Samandriel down with him, kissing and fingers gentle in exploration. "Thank you," he murmured, and felt almost silly at how proud that compliment made him.
Samandriel straddled Castiel’s lap as comfortably as he could, whimpering when the plug moved inside him and desperately needing to have something else in its place and for Lucifer to give him permission to make a mess. “You’re welcome,” he said, brushing teasing kisses against those lips.
“Absolutely enjoying myself,” Dean said, giving up the fight for the upper hand the time being and allowing Lucifer on him, blunt nails dragging against his back. “Just curious where you were planning this to end up.” His fingers tangled in Lucifer’s hair and he pulled him up roughly for a kiss that was far more bite and combat than he would have ever used with Cas.
Lucifer didn't bother answering Dean, only pulled him closer and kissed back giving just as much combat as he got. Similarly, this wasn't the sort of kiss he gave Samandriel, had never needed to. Dean was just a rougher sort. He shifted until one of his knees was pressed between Dean's legs.
Samandriel's kisses were nice -- always sort of kind, and Castiel appreciated that, although found himself distracted by seemingly every noise around him. Samandriel didn't seem to be fairing very well in terms of need, and Cas bit his own lower lip thoughtfully, wrapping his arms around the other angel's waist and then dipping his hands down lower until his fingers were pressing against that plug. A little hitch caught in his own throat and Cas couldn't help but close his eyes.
Samandriel was breathing hot and heavily against Castiel’s mouth, pressing back against his fingers and that infuriating plug. “Need you,” he whined. “Please, Castiel. Please.” He kept kissing, kept moving, hips rolling against the other angel’s as though that might entice him into action.
Dean felt the arm of the couch hard between his shoulderblades as he was pressed further back against it, was painfully aware of the obscene noises only a few feet away and Samandriel’s begging. This wasn’t his call to make, and a firm knee to grind down against was more a priority than worrying about Lucifer having his mouth free to call the shots.
Lucifer's teeth were sharp against Dean's bottom lip before he pulled away just a minimal amount, head tilting just a little to the side to watch the angels on the other couch. "He begs beautifully, doesn't he?" It was said quietly, as if the words were meant for Dean alone -- but that wasn't really the case, since they all knew Samandriel heard everything. And then, a little louder, "what do you think, Dean? Do either of them deserve it?"
Whimpering into Samandriel's mouth, Cas' kisses turned more open, a little wetter and just a little more desperate himself. This was, of course, the best distraction he could have from watching satan grind against his own husband, and very much wanted to continue on with said distraction. "Can I--?" He asked the room in general when he pulled away enough to breathe -- he didn't know if permission was needed, and wasn't particularly pleased over the idea of asking Lucifer for anything.
Dean took in the situation, calculating the angles of the angels with what he knew of their wings. “Yours on his stomach,” he suggested. “I think you might like watching them play with each other’s wings while Cas fucks him.” Hey Dean couldn’t see it, but that didn’t matter. He spoke against Lucifer’s ear so very softly, “besides, when they’ve satisfied each other you can make them watch us as some kind of...just deserts for rushing.”
Lucifer only smiled at that, running his fingers through Dean's hair again -- but it was a little more of a stroke than a pull this time.
"You heard that, Samandriel. But remember you still need permission."
Cas, feeling constantly out of the loop due to a complete lack of supernatural hearing, only looked at Samandriel for a retelling.
Samandriel nodded, “Yes, Lucifer.” He stole a kiss from Castiel. “They want me on my stomach while you fuck me so you can play with my wings for him.” Gingerly, he eased off of the other angel and repositioned himself, so that hopefully he was pleasing or at least Cas could get the plug out.
He stretched his wings, letting them hover just at the edge of visible so that Lucifer didn’t have to worry about not being able to see through them.
Dean’s eyes slid closed for a moment, enjoying that gentle touch and the near pride that came with it. “Going to hell,” he murmured fondly. “Again.”
"Hardly," Lucifer said, lazily pressing a kiss to Dean's temple. "And if that was the case, I'm sure I could do something about it." He moved then, removing himself from Dean's lap in order to actually get a better angle to watch the other angels in, and then gave a slight pause. "You're still behind though. You should fix that."
Cas, really hadn't been expecting it to be a spectacle, but said nothing about it even when he turned his too solemn gaze across the room to meet Dean's eyes before skirting away again, instead focusing on and grabbing a little bottle of lubricant that was sitting on a side table (really, he hoped it didn't live there, that was just unacceptable).
Fingers grazing through Samandriel's wings -- that sensitive spot near the back -- Cas huffed out a little sigh before turning his attention back to the little plug. "I'm moving this," he said, not unkindly, to his brother.
“Please,” Samandriel said, arching with Castiel’s touch. He looked over his shoulder at his brother. Lucifer was okay with this and all he really wanted to do was give his lover the best show he could. Pleasing his brother and himself both came after pleasing Lucifer.
Dean dutifully stripped of the rest of his clothing without getting off the couch and really just stretched out as much as he could while all that was happening. He caught the look Cas gave the bottle of lube. “Apologize to Lucifer for judging things that aren’t your place to, Castiel,” Dean said firmly. Cas’ house obeyed Cas’ rules. Lucifer’s did no such thing.
Lucifer rose an eyebrow at that, but only turned his gaze to Castiel and Samandriel (who was behaving absolutely wonderfully, as always) and remained silent.
Castiel tensed and froze in mid-movement, his shoulders and back going stiff for a very long moment as Dean's words sank in. It was needlessly shaming, and frustration was something hard to bite back. He licked his lips, very intentionally stroked Samandriel's wing again. "I'm sorry," he said, finally. Whether he actually meant it was neither here nor there.
Paying full attention wasn't even a thing that Cas could manage right now, so although he was listening, he wasn't exactly grasping. Not completely. He only whimpered, burying his face further into Samandriel (who was clearly just pleased, and Cas didn't even get it, really) and made a noise that was more mewl than words.
"Dean," he said again, realized it wasn't the right word even as he tilted back into those fingers more insistently. "Please."
“Good boy,” Dean said. He pulled his fingers out, slicked up his cock and pressed ever so slowly into his husband. He didn’t wait too long to adjust; it seemed cruel to put Cas through that in addition to everything else. He just gripped Castiel’s hips hard enough to bruise and thrust into him knowing it wouldn’t take long at all for everything to be even more overwhelming and the pair of angels to start begging Lucifer to come.
Samandriel honestly wasn’t expecting Dean to start with the pace he did, almost like he was picking up exactly where Castiel left off. He wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest. He wanted this more than he knew. It really didn’t take long for everything to wash too much over Samandriel. He lifted his head and looked over at Lucifer, completely content but still pleading. “Please,” he gasped, the word ending in a whine rather than properly. “Please, please Lucifer, may we?” The we was only meant to cover him and Castiel. Dean clearly had plans, and those plans were ones that Samandriel wholly endorsed. Perhaps he and Castiel could cuddle while they watched. It might help keep his brother calm.
Somewhere between then and now, Lucifer had made his way across the little space between couches and was crouched down, leaning on the arm of the couch, face close to Samandriel. "Is that what you'd like, little angel?" He didn't really need to ask, even as he reached over to stroke his boyfriend's forehead. Castiel was making the most debauched noises he'd ever heard, and Lucifer was sure the look in that poor man's eyes was a little more wild than he'd seen them before. "And you? You must be aching for it, Castiel." Again, with each syllable pronounced so wickedly. But Lucifer wasn't stupid -- if anyone in this little group was going to be an issue, it'd be Castiel. He wanted the brunet to like him.
Cas only whimpered, and the noise was low and too wrecked, he reached one hand behind him slightly to just hold on to any part of Dean he could grasp at. "Yes," he finally managed, and then, because he wasn't looking for anything close to trouble, he racked his brain for another word. "Please."
Despite all the overstimulation, Samandriel managed to tip his head up into Lucifer’s hand, to bask in that contact. “Please, Lucifer,” he said, body rocking forward with the force of Dean’s thrusts into Cas. His painfully hard cock bobbing between his legs.
One hand touching him was fine. Dean was okay with that, but the other was not at all in the right place. Dean moved it off of Samandriel’s hip and guided Cas’ hand in the direction of between his legs. He shifted his grip on his husband, one hand still at his hip and the other taking his weight to hold him up at the shoulder.
"Of course, Samandriel, you've been very good. You both have." Castiel got a B for effort, anyway. Lucifer only leaned a little closer to press a kiss to his forehead before reaching over to move Castiel's hand minutely -- resting it on Samandriel's thigh -- before removing the little bit of Winchester gifted jewelry from his boyfriend.
Samandriel came almost immediately, crying out so loudly he was very glad that there was no chance of a neighbor hearing him (though perhaps someone on the street might or anyone in the general vicinity might have some very nice dreams.)
Dean timed it perfectly in his own mind, waiting until Samandriel was well into his release before he let Cas come too, wanting the extra agony of Samandriel coming around his cock to make things briefly unbearable for his husband. Unbearable and then so much better.
Dean's plan worked -- exactly as planned. Castiel was entirely too overwhelmed at the stimulation of Dean inside of him yet, and Samandriel tensing entirely too much around him. His fingers dug roughly into Dean's thigh before his grip went slack completely. He didn't shout or scream, but instead made a strangled noise, rather forgot how to breathe and slammed his eyes shut and watched all the spots wandering by behind his eyelids. It was still too much.
Lucifer only chuckled at the different reactions before him, and petted both of their heads soothingly for a moment before glancing up a Dean and raising an eyebrow.
Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel’s shoulder. “Beautiful, angel,” he murmured, no matter how completely lost in post-orgasmic bliss his husband might be. Ever so carefully, he slipped out of Castiel and went to go sit on the other couch where he thought Lucifer might want him.
As soon as Dean's touch was gone, Castiel pulled away from Samandriel -- only to slump back on top of him, suddenly more than tired. Too tired to notice he was a sticky mess and a pile of limbs that just didn't want to do a thing. Breathing hard, he pressed his forehead into wings.