Ooooh how about wincestiel (or sastiel, if wincestiel is too angsty) + “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.” Feel free to take it any direction you please. Also, happy Easter.

rainsoakedsam:

HAPPY EASTER! Thank you ♥♥ I took the wincestiel route haha surprise surprise, with established wincest and a bit of angst

“I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart,” Dean huffed, slouching back against the booth, crossing his arms. Pouting. 

Sam tried not to laugh, because, well, it wasn’t supposed to be funny, but Dean looked like nothing more than a petulant child. All Sam had done so far was talked to a guy, some sweet-faced college kid who immediately mentioned a girlfriend. So that busted the plan. And coming back to a sulking Dean? Well, that put a further nail in the coffin. 

“We used to do it all the time,” Sam reminded him, trying not to chide him because at least Dean said it out loud instead of breaking something or waiting a month down the line to express his discomfort in a ridiculous explosion of words at some inopportune time. “I could find a girl instead.”

“Nah,” Dean sighed, “Just doesn’t feel right anymore. I dunno, Sammy. Maybe I’m too old for this shit.”

Sam frowned but hid it in his beer until the glass was drained. This sucked. Whatever Dean’s new-found, overly dramatic issues were about threesomes, it wasn’t just his brother’s problem. They were a team, always, and if that was incompatible with Sam’s occasional need to have two guys slobbering on his dick, then so be it. 

“So…there’s no one here you want to pick up?” Sam tried again. He watched Dean scan the room, watched his eyes darken, sweep back. He shook his head and Sam’s stomach dropped out. “You shoulda said something before, if you knew you’d get all…weird about it. Like, in the motel. Or driving here, or – “

“I didn’t know, alright?” Dean hissed, fidgeting like he wanted to leave and already with two beers each in the tank? “It just happened when you went to talk to Kansas State’s twink of the year over there. Thought about you pounding him, y’know, like usual.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to knock his teeth out.”

That vague hint of jealousy used to make the whole thing really, super hot; Sam had to admit that was one of the best parts, watching Dean get all grabby, needy in a way he didn’t get when it was just the two of them and he had Sam’s full attention. Now it was a wall between them.

Sam didn’t say anything. He got refills and thought about getting Dean drunk enough to relax his grip on the situation. Kinda wrong but remarkably easy to pull off, if he needed to. He wasn’t out of options yet though.

That sweet kid sidled up to him this time with this charmingly devious smirk, walking his long fingers towards Sam’s at the bar. “I know I said I had a girlfriend,” he started, slow-trailing his eyes over all of Sam, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t go somewhere with you. And that guy, right? You two are, like, one of those cute couples who picks up together?”

“We were,” Sam told him, couldn’t stop from looking him over too. Maybe he’d invite him over to the booth anyway. Get the whole thing started without Dean and then see what his brother did. He’d play along, but…shit, that was nasty. 

“You’re not anymore? As of five minutes ago?”

“Apparently,” Sam shot him a smile anyway, grabbed his drinks and loud-whispered, “He’s getting old, but thanks,” while he wheeled away. Back to sour-faced Dean, who’d seen the whole thing. “He’s into it, you know.”

“He’s an infant.”

“He’s at least 21. Is that what you’re pissy about? Because I can find someone older.”

“I’m not pissy. I already explained it.” Dean muttered that and more but most of it got lost in the beer. 

Sam was still thinking though. No one older that looked like his type. Not even women. Just that kid. What if he dragged Dean somewhere better? Trendier with microbrews and fresh paint on the walls and more attractive patrons? No; he was in full brood now by the hunch of his shoulders, the purse of his lips, a mood strictly for dive bars. Great.

“And I don’t trust anyone with you anymore,” Dean said, a little too loud to break the quiet, “You know? After all the shit that keeps happening? I know how ridiculous that sounds, okay? ‘Cause it’s just fucking, it’s not life or death or anything, but…just can’t do it.”

Sam couldn’t argue that; it was sweet and too much and just barely fucked up and it made him happy in the sickest way for a second. “If that’s what it is, what about someone we know?”

“Are you that desperate? I’m not enough?”

Sam groaned. That sucked. That whole guilt trip was utterly unfair and Dean knew it too, not meeting Sam’s gaze, flexing his fingers on the glass in front of him instead of apologizing. 

Sam had it though, in this flash of not quite brilliance but maybe recognition, because there was someone they trusted, someone perfect for it, already all entwined with the two of them and the moment Sam thought Castiel to himself, the angel appeared a few feet from their table, his face drawn in the usual concern, approaching the table in a rush.

“Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Fine?” Sam withered against the booth, shrank back all he could and drank and drank while Dean glared. 

“Hello, Dean. Sam was thinking about me and I assumed there was some need. But – “

“Oh my god,” Dean said, so slow and loud that Sam nearly burst out laughing. Oh, oh poor Dean. “Really? You wanna bring the angel into this?”

“It was just a thought! Like, a fleeting little ‘huh, what if’ thing. I didn’t know he’d…hey, Cas.”

“Sam,” Cas smiled in that stoic little way of his, shuffling into Sam’s side of the booth. “Do you two need me? Or did I misread your call?”

Sam turned to Dean, eyebrows raised, nodding once towards the angel. Dean already knew, so it was now or never. Dean glared for a second and Sam thought he’d lost, but then his lips twisted into that sweet, terrible smirk he knew achingly well, and Sam watched him set his eyes on Cas in that direct, blinding way that never, ever failed. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean started, sliding his beer towards the angel with one finger, “D’you know what a threesome is?”