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The One Where Henricksen Loves Two Brothers

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Sam won't stop staring at Dean. Victor would think it were creepy, if he could drag his own attention off Dean long enough to care. It's still too new, Dean's return; the raw pain of shared failure hasn't faded, just frozen, as he and Sam try to deal with the fact that their spell worked

They gather up Dean's warm, naked body-- vulnerable in a way that Victor remembers thinking once was impossible-- and crash hard in their motel. Sam drives, still territorial about the car as he never is with Dean himself, and Victor sits in the backseat with Dean sprawled out over his lap, still unconscious or asleep. Victor looks down at the pale, pink skin of the man who changed his world, and his heart gives a painful twinge. 

Sam wraps Dean in his arms once they stop, holds him close and cherished. Victor can only watch and follow, make sure the salt lines are laid. Sam deposits Dean on the bed furthest from the door gently, and runs his hands along his brother's naked limbs, assessing. "He's okay," Sam whispers, almost to himself.

Victor steps up and rests a hand lightly on Sam's shoulder, which is shaking, invisible to everything but touch. "You did it," he says, his voice an intrusion into their Winchester world.

Sam grips Victor's shoulder when he tries to move away, looks up at him with wet eyes, more green than hazel for once, familiar and wanted. "We did it." He gives Victor's hand a final squeeze and lies down on the bed, his long limbs wrapped around Dean like an octopus. 

Victor strips down to his boxers, and goes to climb into the other bed. Sam's voice, unexpected, comes to him out of the darkness. "If you get in that bed," Sam says, "Dean's gonna kick both our asses in the morning." He's not looking at Victor, face still buried in Dean's neck, but his words are clear. "It'll be a tight fit, but get in."

Victor hesitated, then shakes himself. He knew where he stood with Dean. He knows where he stands-- or where he stood, this morning-- with Sam. If Sam thinks he knows where Victor stands with both of them, together, then Victor's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He walks around to the other side of the bed and lifts the covers, sliding underneath where Dean's already warmed them, not cold, not dead. He wraps one arm around Dean's waist, the back of his hand sliding against Sam's abs in the move. "We'll need to talk at some point."

Victor can see Sam's smile, just visible, mostly hidden against Dean's skin. "We can talk," Sam says, the laughter back in his voice. "But Dean never will. You'll see." 

Dean proves Sam right the next night.

He's been jittery all day, spooked, vacillating between demands for solitude and pressing himself so close Victor can see the whites of his eyes as he darts glances from Sam to Victor to Sam. He was out of the bed before either of them had a chance to explain, and when Victor tries to corner him, he just shakes his head and tries to talk about not hurting his brother, like that makes any fucking sense. 

"He doesn't get it," Sam says, as he and Victor watch Dean re-familiarize himself with the Impala. Sam shifts his eyes to Victor. "Us, that is. How we're going to work, from now on." 

Victor watches as Dean twists to look back of the pair of them and then snaps back to the Impala like he's been caught peeping in a girl's washroom. "I think you're right." He smiles, almost shy, because he wasn't so sure himself, not too long ago. "We gonna show him?" 

Sam sighs, relieved, and claps a hand on Victor's shoulder. "Yeah," Sam says, his big hand squeezing tight. "We'll show him just what he's in for." 

Sam makes the plan. He knows Dean better, and Victor's never been one to back away from good advice. Leaving on a supply run, though, knowing what he'll have waiting for him when he comes back? That's hard. Pun intended. 

Victor slides the key into the knob on his return and opens the door smoothly, easily. He does it so quick Dean doesn't even have time to scramble off of Sam's cock from where he's perched on his brother's lap, the whole, beautiful line of his naked back and ass on full display for Victor's eyes. 

"Oh my god," Dean whispers. He jerks forward, like he's trying to pull off of Sam's cock and away, but Sam just slams his hands hard onto Dean's hips and keeps him pinned in place. "Victor, this isn't-- I know you and Sam are--"

"Me and Sam are what, Dean?" Victor asks. He steps into the room and sets down the bags of food-- non-perishable, he planned ahead-- on the floor next to the door. "Fucking?" 

Dean shudders on Sam's lap, and Victor can actually see his hole spasming around the harsh breech of Sam's cock. "Together," Dean says, quietly. Like he's been caught cheating, like he's unwelcome.

"What do you think we are, Dean?" Sam asks, and though Victor can't see Sam's face past Dean's body, he can imagine the intense focus, the steel will that drew Victor in like a moth to flame. 

"We're brothers," Dean says, like it's obvious. 

Victor strips as he speaks, not wanting to waste any more time. "Unless that's not Sam's cock up your ass, I think you're a little bit more than that." Naked, he approaches the bed and stands near the head of it, so he can look Dean in the face without forcing Dean to contort. He bends down and gathers one of Sam's hands in his own, and raises it to press Sam's fingers into Dean's mouth. Dean opens for it, eyes wide, and his tongue just brushes against the pad of Victor's fingers as he feeds Sam into Dean's mouth. "You didn't think we'd make you choose, did you?" 

Dean said nothing, but he lowered his lashes, hiding his eyes from view. "He thought we'd chosen each other," Sam says, thrusting his fingers in and out of Dean's mouth, slow. "Didn't you, Dean?"

Dean nods, and Victor meets Sam's eyes for one long moment of communication. "I think it's about time you learned about sharing, Dean." Victor sits down on the bed as he speaks, leans in close to Dean so his lips just brush against the other man's ear. He sucks the lobe into his mouth, and runs his hands down Dean's body, one down his front, the other down his back. His left he wraps around Dean's cock, half hard, and traces down to the tight skin of Dean's hole with his right, and rubs Sam's cock with his thumb when he hits it. 

Sam groans and thrusts up into Dean, his cock entirely sheathed in Dean's body before he relaxes into the touch. He withdraws his fingers from Dean's mouth, reluctant, and Victor swears softly when Dean tries to follow them as they withdraw, hungry little sounds of desperation crawling their way out of Dean's throat. 

"Shit, Dean," Victor laughs, and presses a wet kiss to Dean's shoulder. He jacks Dean's cock with his left hand a few times and then lets it go, rubbing his hand on Dean's skin, desperate to touch Dean as he hasn't in far, far too long. "You looking for another cock?"

Dean opens his eyes and meets Victor's gaze, dazed like he's in a dream. "I want both of you," he says. He tips himself forward, legs spreading even wider over Sam's hips, the change in angle making Sam's cock bulge obscenely where it's not tucked into Dean's ass. If Sam was anyone else, if his cock wasn't bordering on too big, he'd have popped out, but as it is there's just a few inches of temptingly long, thick cock on display, splitting Dean open at what Victor knows is only mid-shaft. Dean's got his elbows dug into the bed to either side of Sam's head, their faces so close together they must be able to taste each other's breath. "I want you together, in me." Dean's looking at Sam while he speaks, but he twists to look at Victor, too. "At the same time."

Victor snaps his hand from Dean's skin and wrap it around his cock to stop himself from coming. Sam's idea was to get Dean between them, split open on their cocks from both ends, maybe trade off blow jobs until Dean was too well-fucked to even think about running away, but this, this is better. The idea of fucking up into Dean's tight ass next to Sam, having his cock trapped inside Dean alongside Sam's-- fuck, it's hot.

"You think you can take that?" Victor asked. He spots the discarded tube of lube, tossed unceremoniously to the other side of the bed, and makes a grab for it. "You want two cocks, fucked up deep inside, splitting you open? I'm not a small guy, Dean; it'll probably hurt." Probably stretch Dean further than he could really stand, make it hurt on the almosttoofar side of pain. Victor frowns, nerves lighting up bright inside him, and makes himself say, "You want it to hurt?" 

Dean rocks down, ass gobbling up the few exposed inches of Sam's cock, then up, exposing them. "I like pain," he says, and there's a thread of horrified self-awareness there, something that Dean didn't have before his trip to Hell. "I'd take anything you gave me." 

Victor doesn't really like the sound of that, and from the anxious clench of Sam's fingers on Dean's hips, he knows Sam feels the same. Sam peels the fingers of one hand off of Dean's hips and curls it into his hair. He holds Dean there and just stares at him, and Dean stares back, but whatever Sam's looking for, he doesn't seem to find it in Dean's face. "Prep him," Sam says at last, and drags Dean in for a kiss.

It's a distracting sight, Sam like a force of nature, surging up against Dean in a wave, and Victor has to force his eyes away. He moves them slowly down Sam and Dean's bodies, so much lighter than his own, until he's looking down at where Dean and Sam are joined, Dean's hole a red, irritated rim and Sam's cock a dusky spear of flesh grinding up into him in shallow, thoughtless thrusts. Sam's balls are big, slapping against the crease of his ass every time he raises his hips, and that's where Victor turns his attention. 

Victor bends down and licks a line up Sam's testicles, his tongue relaxed and wide, to taste the largest amount possible. He sharpens his tongue as he brings it up, flicks the tip of his tongue sharply against the joint of balls to cock, then lets it flatten out again as he drags it up Sam's shaft. Sam growls up into Dean's mouth, and his thrusts still as he lets Victor work. Sam's cock tastes like lube, and beneath that, there's that promised, too-long withheld taste of Dean. Victor sucks in a sharp breathe through his nose and all he can smell is Sam, Dean, and sex. He slides up and traces his tongue around the tight ring of Dean's opening, so tight it looks like Sam should never have fit, let alone both of them. Victor slides his tongue inside alongside Sam's cock anyway, just the tinniest tease, and licks around Dean's rim from the inside.

Dean lets out a high wail, and Sam must have been at him for a while, because just like that his ass is clamping down on Sam's cock, Victor's tongue forced out, as he shudders through orgasm. Victor withdraws onto his knees and watches Dean collapse over Sam's chest, his chest heaving. "That's lucky," Victor says.

"Luck nothing," Sam mutters, into the kiss-swollen flesh of Dean's mouth. "He needed to loosen up for you to get in." Sam's hand is hidden between their bodies, and Victor nods his understanding. 

He pops open the cap on the lube and squeezes a small puddle of lube into his palm. He rubs it over the fingers of his right hand, rubbing away the chill the lube's taken, and reaches forward to touch Dean still-spasming hole . Dean shudders at the touch and mutters a small almost-protest, but tilts his hips up to grant Victor easier access. Victor rubs the two fingers over the seam of Dean's ass, massaging Sam's cock and Dean's opening equally. Dean's sphincter is relaxed, and Victor slides two fingers in, until the first knuckles of both fingers have disappeared inside Dean's heat. 

It's tight, slick with lube and Victor's spit, and Victor just keeps pushing inside, until the base of his fingers are flush with Dean's ass, the two fingers on the outside pressing awkwardly against Sam's cock. He rotates his hand, stretching Dean as he does, until the back of his hand rests against Sam's cock and his first two fingers are hooked into Dean's ass. "There we go," Victor murmurs, and uncurls his ring finger to push it against Dean's ass. "Nice and loose, gotta make room." 

"It feels good," Dean says, and he sounds half-drugged, the endorphins running through his system probably making him dizzy, especially with Sam's cock pressed in so deep inside still, probably right over his prostate. Victor's ass clenches up in memory at the thought, and he stretches his fingers inside Dean, spreading them out over Sam's cock inside. Dean swears softly and Victor hears the wet sound of Sam jerking Dean off again between their bodies, slow, in time to Victor's tentative movements. 

"You think he's ready?" Victor asks, and Dean gives this slutty little wiggle of encouragement on his fingers and Sam's cock, desperate for more. 

"I don't think he's ready to wait any longer," Sam says, and slots his mouth back over Dean's, endlessly hungry for his brother's refound touch. Victor doesn't like being apart, and he rises up until his chest is pressed to Dean's back and then draws Dean back with him; Sam refuses to stop kissing his brother and so rises up with Dean, until Dean's perched between their laps. Victor crowds in close, sliding his thighs between Sam and Dean's, until he can feel his testicles just brush against the wet heat of Sam's. He holds Dean close against him, and Dean's pale white shoulder is there in front of him, just asking for it, so Victor bites down, just hard enough to mark. 

Dean breaks away from Sam and strains to look at Victor over his shoulder. "Don't make it a show," he snaps, and tilts his hips a little, begging. "Just fuck me." 

Victor shudders and closes his eyes. He shifts so that he can get one hand into the crowded space between their bodies, and wraps his fist, still slick with lube, around his cock. He coats himself absentmindedly and shifts backwards to make room, then angles his cock down, perpendicular to his body, so the dark head of him rests against the lighter skin of Sam's cock. He drags it up until it hits on the hotter skin of Dean's hole and then pauses. "Last chance to back out," he says, a whisper right in Dean's ear. 

Dean's ass clenches up tight on Sam's cock and relaxes, and Victor can't help himself as he pushes forward. "I don't need a last chance," Dean says. "I've got you." 

"Fuck," Victor mutters, and braces himself as he pushes up and in. Dean's body isn't ready-- a body is never really ready for two cocks-- and while the outer ring of his ass opens for Victor's cock, the layers of muscle inside are less welcoming. Victor wraps his hands around Dean's biceps and pushes up as he pulls Dean down, forcing them together, until Dean ass opens to Victor and he slides a few inches down, taking most of Sam's cock and trapping the head of Victor's cock inside his channel alongside Sam. Dean doesn't even offer a token protest, just moans and throws his head back as he's split apart. 

"Holy shit," Sam says from the other side of Dean, voice faint. Victor knows how he feels, and drags his eyes up to meet Sam's, which are dark, totally blown out with lust. "Fuck, Victor, that feels-- shit, your cock feels good." Sam slams his eyes shut and thrusts upward tentatively into Dean's body, and Dean cries out, soft little Ohs of surprise, until Sam forces his hips still. "You've got to get deeper," he says and Victor, dizzy from the slide of Sam's cock against his own, agrees.

Victor adjusts his position and thrusts up, trying to force open a place for himself inside of Dean. "Gonna make you ours," he finds himself saying as he grinds upward.

"He's already ours," Sam agrees from the other side, and brings their joined hands, still curled together, over Dean's hip. 

"Gonna take care of you," Victor promises, and Dean gives a soft little cry at that. His ass relaxes, and somehow, Victor slides home. Dean's quivering on top of them, his chest heaving quickly as he takes in frantic gulps of air. 

"I missed you," Dean gasps out, and wraps his arms around Sam's shoulders and pulls himself up like that, off their cocks, and then slams himself down hard. He buries himself in Sam, and Victor draws closer because of it, and wraps the hand not tangled with Sam's on Dean around to grip Dean's cock. It's hard, and sticky; they never cleaned him from his last orgasm, and his come has dried all over his cock. 

Dean rides them like that, wrapped around Sam with Victor wrapped around them both, the grip of his ass sliding up and down Victor's cock, pressed close to Sam's, a blissful taste of ecstasy. Sam starts making hungry, desperate little sounds and Victor jerks his hips up hard, aiming for the flared skin of Sam's crown trapped against him, and leans forward to swallow Sam's cry when he comes. 

Sam's cock floods Dean with hot come, making it even wetter, the slide even easier. Victor growls and thrusts his hips a few times into the sloppy mess, and Sam mutters a protest and, without warning, draws his cock out of Dean. 

Dean wasn't expecting it; he gives this soft, surprised little sound of protest and his half-empty ass slides all the way down Victor's cock, until his loose, tired hole is left clenching feebly, unable to stop Sam's come from leaking out to paint Victor's balls. Victor's so deep it feels like he might be able to kiss Dean and taste himself from the other end. 

Sam shifts away and sprawls out over the head of the bed, watching them with tired eyes. Victor rubs his beard into Dean's neck and gets a grip on Dean's thighs, opens him up wide so Sam can see his own cock, so much darker than Sam's, opening up his brother. 

Sam had told Victor about how he'd jerked off, thinking of them together. That was the first night Victor kissed him, desperate and missing Dean, and they'd jerked off into each other's fists, and if either of them had been crying by the end, well, neither of them mentioned it the next day.

But Victor remembers how much Sam had liked the idea of them together, Victor's dark skin contrasting brilliantly with Dean's pale, golden flesh. 

Victor pivots his hips back and out, then forward and in, his own thighs spread wide, Dean's spread wider over top of them. His cock slides in easily, Dean's muscles too exhausted to put up more than a token resistance, and Victor lets himself get rough for a few thrusts, slamming Dean down on his cock hard. Dean's hot inside, tender, and every time he's pushed down all the way he arches his back and pants, his cock slapping wetly against his belly. 

"You gonna come on my cock, Dean?" Victor asks, and bites the skin of Dean's neck, right over a mark either Sam or himself had left there earlier. "You gonna come while Sam watches?"

Dean groans and wraps one hand his cock, jerking it in quick, rough pulls. He pushes himself up with his knees with Victor's motions, and rocks downward to meet each thrust. "I want you to come inside me," he says, and clenches his ass tight around Victor's cock, deliberately. "Fill me up, till you can't tell whose been inside me, just know it was one of you." 

"Yeah," Sam says, and suddenly he's back, on his elbows in front of Dean, face poised perfectly in front of Dean's cock. "I think Victor can do that." That said, he gulps down Dean's cock in one smooth, easy motion.

Dean's ass clamps down around Victor's cock, not as tight as when Sam was there, too, but oh, so fucking close. "Sam," Dean whines, desperate. He burries one hand in Sam's hair and jerks his hips, forward into Sam's mouth and back onto Victor's cock. "I'm gonna--" 

"Come for us, Dean," Victor says, and reaches underneath Sam's chin to roll Dean's ball in one hand. "Let go." 

Dean sobs once and twists, slamming his mouth against Victor's, then shatters as their lips touch; he comes, and his mouth falls to hang open in the middle of the kiss, before Dean comes out of it enough to begin mouthing at Victor's lips desperately, but still out of it enough that spit runs down his chin and wets Victor's beard. His hole spasms around Victor wildly, and Victor can just make out the sound of Sam swallowing, over and over. Sam keeps swallowing well past the point when Dean stops coming, and Dean's twitches at the constant, unending stimulation. The second orgasm leaves Dean totally limp in Victor's arms, every part of him relaxed, except for his hole, which keeps trying to contract, practically begging for Victor to try to go deeper. 

"Off, Sam," Victor growls, then moans as Sam draws back with a slurp. Sam smiles at Victor and licks his lips, then settles back, away from them again. Dean whimpers as his cock is exposed to the cold air again, shrinking back against Victor's body heat, shivering. Victor runs his hands over Dean's shoulders, his ribs, his belly, calming him, until his shudders have faded away. "Dean? You need me to stop, you tell me. Okay?" Dean barely nods, but that's all the permission Victor needs.

He twists Dean around on his lap, spinning him to come face-to-face with Victor, and slams Dean hard down to the bed. The tension he's been carrying around for months has reached its breaking point, and he needs to let it go. He shifts the angle of his hips, cruel habit more than anything else, and grunts when Dean tightens around him, Victor's cock pressed up snug and good on his prostate. Dean's cock doesn't harden, probably can't, at this point, but he wraps his arms around Victor's shoulders and pulls himself up for a kiss, accepting the pounding without complaint. 

Victor's close, has been all night, so he angles his mouth over Dean's and just goes to town, lets all the anger and desperation out in the motion of his body, until the scared, possessive place inside of him believes that Dean is back, is his, theirs, finally, like he should be. 

"Come on, Victor," Sam whispers, and suddenly he's there, pressed up against Victor's back, pinning them both down beneath his weight. "We haven't got all night." He runs one hand down Victor's back and then rubs his thumb against Victor's hole, catching the tight skin on his nail and then doing it again, deliberately. 

Victor slams home one last time and lets out a rough shout as he comes, fucked in deep. His cock spasms inside Dean, pumping his balls dry and Dean full, and he digs his toes into the bed in a futile effort to force himself in further, get his cock, his come, deeper inside. 

"There," Dean sighs, from beneath him. Victor grunts a question at him as Dean shifts beneath them, lazy now that it's over, but Dean doesn't answer, already most of the way toward sleep.

"Hedonist," Sam accuses his sleeping brother, and pulls at Victor's limbs until Victor rolls other, cock sliding out of Dean's ass, followed by a gush of thick, bright white come. Victor sniffs, and then sighs in satisfaction at the stink of sex that pervades the room. He collapses next to Dean and curls in close, and smiles as Sam tucks himself in to Dean's other side. 

Maybe tomorrow, they'll be able to pin Dean down long enough to actually talk. The messages they can teach through sex only went so far, and Victor didn't want there to be any confusion about where things were going.

'Cause it was going somewhere good.