Author: sp-oops
Rating: E
Word Count: 10K
Pairing: Dean x Cas x Reader (established C x R)
Notes: Lmao this is about as pwp as I get. And it’s all thanks to this ask.
Warnings: Prayers-as-telepathy, alcohol, first-time blow job (m/m), voyeurism, dry humping, major grace kink, mild praise kink, miiild D/s dynamics, semi-public sex, complete misunderstanding of how mechanical malfunctions in a hospitality environment are actually treated, cheesy af late-night confessions.
Summary: Set during the middle of Season 12. The British Men of Letters have put you, Dean, and Sam in a swank hotel to work a case. When your boyfriend Cas rolls into town to help, he, you, and Dean catch up over drinks—and learn some surprising facts about Dean’s… experiences. And lack thereof. Afterward, when the elevator breaks down with the three of you in it, you’ve got nothing but time. And Cas has nothing but ideas.
The three of you just chatted for like, two hours.
Why are you all so weirdly quiet now?
Facing your cloudy reflection in the steel elevator doors only makes the silence worse. Dean’s at your left, hands deep in his jacket pockets, staring up at the rising numbers. Cas, at your right, is slipping your fingers through his, over and against, until he can brush his thumb against your pulse.
It’s hammering. The bastard, he knows it is. That could be us. It’s a thought-turned-prayer, one you know is amplified because he’s touching you. You send him thoughts like you have been all evening: half-baked images of the three of you tangled together. We could talk him through it. Show him how.
Muscles flare along Cas’ jaw; he breathes out, slow and careful.
Cool. Cool cool cool, so Cas is just as turned on as you. Well, good. There’s a giant bed waiting for you both on the seventh floor. Hell, if Dean weren’t in here, you could go at it right now; a quick glance around reveals a lack of security cameras. You—