Pairing: Castiel/Dean/Gunnar Lawless
Word Count: 3,457
Warnings: Threesome, double penetration, bottom!dean
Summary: Because two dicks for Dean is ALWAYS better than one. Especially when Dean’s longtime wrestling crush is involved.
Dean’s entire body begins to burn with a flustered heat as soon as he opens his birthday present from Cas and realizes what he’s looking at. The bright red of embarrassment creeps from beneath his favorite gray Henley to cover every inch of exposed skin until it reaches the very tips of his ears.
“Dean? Are you alright?” Cas cautiously questions; eyes steady on where Dean’s hand clenches the envelope tight.
“Yeah... yeah.” Dean clears his throat; briefly meeting Cas’ concerned gaze before looking back down.
Last year, Cas had gotten him a damned half dozen gorgeous and insanely expensive pairs of panties from Agent Provocateur. Which had caused Dean to flailingly stammer for close to thirty minutes after opening the delicately wrapped pink and black box.
Only Cas’ calm and not in the least bit disappointed, assurance that they could be returned if he wasn’t comfortable, had snapped Dean out of his panic and made him realize that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being eager to slip into the flimsy, lingerie. That it was more than o.k. to be enthusiastically invested in not only his husband’s enjoyment of the feminine garments, but his own as well.
After the initial awkwardness faded, the panties had turned out to be the best gift he’d ever received from Cas.
This though, this beats them by a long shot.
“Dean?” Cas carefully ventures again when Dean silently continues to stare at his gift.
“Yep.” Dean pops outta his thoughts with a shake of his head; a wide grin breaks out as he presses his lips to Cas’ for a quick kiss. “This is friggin’ awesome.”
And it is.
Ringside wrestling tickets for the following Friday.
But it’s not just any match.
It’s the final match of Gunnar freakin’ Lawless’ long and illustrious career.
Gunnar Lawless, the wrestler who Dean may have been a tiny bit obsessed with while growing up.
Gunnar Lawless, who, at one point, had starred in just as many of Dean’s raging puberty fueled fantasies as Joan Jett had.
Gunnar Lawless, who Dean had admitted all of these things and more about, to Cas throughout their 10 years together. Not realizing his husband had taken his vigorous and possibly hormone-addled ramblings and filed them away until he could bring together this perfect storm of a moment.
Holy shit, Dean is really freakin’ excited.
The work week leading up to the match is 100% excruciating. It’s hard to keep his focus on the boring, albeit looming, Roman Industries engineering project deadline, when in just a few short days he’s going to be watching Gunnar Lawless kick ass, live and in person at friggin’ ringside.
When Friday, finally rolls around, Dean’s as jittery as a live wire.
Something that Cas finds never ending amusement in when Dean’s anticipation leads them to forgo a regular sit down dinner beforehand so they can instead head straight to the arena.
By the time they stock up at the concession stand and get to their seats, Dean can barely stay still. He gestures wildly at the ring while recounting for Cas every one of Lawless’ matches that he’s seen on TV.
And now he’s in the same building as the wresting legend. He can’t believe it.
Eventually, the lights dim as Gunnar’s entry theme starts blaring through the speakers and the crowd, including Dean, goes wild.
He screams and cheers, enthusiastically bumping Cas’ shoulder when Gunnar begins to make his way down the ramp toward the ring.
Fuck. Time may have grayed his hair some, softened muscles a bit, but to Dean, the wrestler’s just as large and still as freakin’ hot as ever.
Dean’s heart thumps in his chest, beating louder and wilder the closer Gunnar gets to their seats. When they’re almost face to face, he pulls off his glove and gestures at the crowd and oh, Dean remembers this from when he was younger.
How jealous he’d always been of whatever kid was lucky enough to grab this little piece of Gunnar for themselves.
The wrestler’s gaze roams over the attendees and Dean’s stomach does a shameless somersault when he not only stops briefly on Dean but flicks back a second time before pointing right at him.
Eyes wide with disbelief, Dean’s head snaps to the side to check if Cas is seeing the same thing he is.
And in that moment Gunnar hands the glove... to the young boy standing directly in front of Dean.
Of course. Clearly.
Dean’s attempt to discreetly shake off his disappointment is sidetracked when before he moves completely passed, Gunnar makes solid eye contact with him and winks.
“I’d say that’s better than a glove any day, don’t you?” Cas’ breath is warm and damp against the quickly overheating flush of Dean’s cheek.
“Did that just...?” Dean’s surprise is cut short by the gigantic, shit eating grin that splits across his face as he watches Gunnar climb through the ropes as the match begins.
Dean’s shouts and whistles are louder than anyone else in their immediate vicinity when Gunnar is crowned Top Notch Wrestling Champion by the time the final bell rings.
His entire body thrums with a raw energy that he can’t wait to wear off with a couple rounds of naked wrestling, where he’ll hopefully be pinned down repeatedly by Cas, as soon as they get home.
Except Cas wants to stop for a drink at a bar right down the block from the arena and no amount of filthy persuasions that Dean whispers into his ear seems to sway his decision.
Dean quickly resigns himself to the fact and places his order when the bartender approaches their spot at the end of the crowded bar.
“Did you have a good time?” Cas asks; as if Dean’s hooting and hollering for the last couple hours could be misconstrued for anything else.
“Amazing.” Dean offers; taking a swig from his El Sol bottle as he leans into Cas’ hand when it skims affectionately across his hip.
Movement at the front door catches Dean’s attention and turns his swallow of beer into choking and spluttering.
“Dean?” Cas’ palm thumps hard against Dean’s back as his coughing fit continues.
“Gunnar Lawless.” Dean wheezes feebly; trying to get himself under control as Cas scans the bar.
“You should go say hello.” Cas announces as the wrestler set up court at a table in the opposite corner of the room.
“What? Really? You think I should?” Dean nervously wonders aloud as Cas inclines his head in Gunnar’s direction.
Before Dean can continue to try and psych himself out, Cas gives him a familiar, heated look of approval that sends explosive want zipping through his veins, even as his eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline in surprise.
It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve played this game. Not even close. Over the course of their relationship plenty others have come before.
From names and faces that neither can hardly remember to people who have become a part of their lives and that they still see on a regular basis.
But this is a completely new territory. One that Dean doesn’t think will turn out as successful as those in the past.
Just because Gunnar tossed a wink his way doesn’t mean the dude was actually looking for a hook up.
Cas rolls his eyes as if he can hear Dean’s internal argument and gives him a gentle but firm nudge to the ribs.
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. I’m just gonna...” Dean slides off the bar stool and runs a hand over Cas’ knee for courage before he slips through the crowd.
Without even glancing back, Dean knows Cas is watching his trek toward Gunnar and it makes all his nervousness slip away. Eases the tenseness from his shoulders and smooths out the glide of his hips.
By the time he reaches the table he’s back to being a pro at this whole pick up thing.
Or at least he is until Gunnar turns away from the conversation he’s having with the man sitting beside him and greets Dean with another wink.
“Hi. I, uh, saw you sitting over here and wanted to come over and say “Hi”, so I came over to...Hi.” Dean stumbles over his words as Gunnar stares at him with an intensity that he can feel crawl up his spine.
“I remember you from the show earlier.” Gunnar says; reclining further back in his chair. “What’s your name?”
“Ah, Dean. Dean Winchester, sir.” He cringes at the way it trips out of his mouth.
“Well, Dean Winchester, how about we head over to the bar so I can buy you a drink?” Gunnar offers as his gaze tracks unashamedly and hungrily over Dean.
“Awesome.” Dean grins as the wrestler slides out of his seat.
The crowd parts for Gunnar, like the Red Sea for Moses and leaves a clear path for them that leads to a spot right next to where Cas nurses a second beer while patiently waiting for Dean’s return.
The satisfied and triumphant look that flits across Cas’ face when he sees them doesn’t escape Gunnar and he glances between the pair as he sizes up the situation. “So, what’s the deal here, fellas?”
“My name’s Castiel. I’m Dean’s husband.” At Cas’ blunt delivery, Dean outright groans as Gunnar’s mouth falls open slightly.
“That’s quite a bit of information you failed to mention there, Dean.” The wrestler pointedly begins before Cas interjects.
“Dean’s been a fan of yours for a very long time and would very much like you to fuck him. Regardless of our martial status.” Cas puts out like it’s an everyday chat they’re all having and Dean wonders how they ever even seal the deal with Cas’ brusque awkwardness.
“And where does that leave you in the equation, Mr. Husband?” Gunnar inquires further; eyebrow cocked as he awaits Cas’ response.
“Dean’s very greedy when it comes to sexual situations.” Cas begins while sending a sly smirk in Dean’s direction. “I’d very much like to fuck him as well. That is, if you find the arrangement amicable. If not, I’d still like to watch. Though, you should know that he can easily take two...”
“Whoa, whoa.” Dean cuts in when the raunchy conversation’s even more salacious turn has the woman seated next to them sloshing her dry martini all over her hand and the bar top in shock. “How about we discuss details somewhere more private?”
He’s not a prude, by any means, but the entire free world doesn’t need to know the exact amount of dicks he can sit on at once.
Gunnar straightens his jacket then nods toward the exit, “I’m staying across the street at The Omni, room 2132.” Then walks away without even a second glance toward the couple.
Dean focuses on the wrestler’s broad back and shoulders as he disappears out the front door of the bar. When he turns back to Cas, he’s just finishing up his beer as he waves down the bartender to close out their tab.
There’s a knot of anticipation in Dean’s stomach and excitement bubbling just underneath the surface of his skin. He doesn’t know if he’s going to make it through the next excruciating minutes that they lay out for discretion’s sake.
The moment they step outside, Dean wants nothing more than to bolt to the hotel, but Cas, ever zen, Cas, calmly guides him instead into the CVS on the corner.
“What the hell are we doing, man?” Dean groans while following his husband to the drink cooler where he puts a few single serving bottles of orange juice into the basket he’s currently holding.
Cas gives only an exasperated eye roll in explanation as he moves toward the middle aisles of store.
“Oh, yeah, that, ah, makes sense.” Dean sheepishly admits, hand rubbing at the back of his neck when Cas adds a couple boxes of different brands of condoms to their items before reaching for a bottle of lube farther down on the same shelf.
When they leave the store, Dean practically drags Cas, plastic shopping bag gripped tight in his fist, between oncoming traffic and then through the swanky Omni lobby. Only slowing down once they’re in the elevator and the trip to the 21st floor gives him no other option.
“I’m gonna get fucked by Gunnar Lawless.” Dean excitably giggles; drawing a fond smile from Cas as they wait for the wrestler to answer his room door.
And a mere ten minutes later, they’re very much well on their way to doing exactly that. There’s not a shred of clothes left between the three of them. All of it having been discarded about the room haphazardly before they fell into each other.
Dean's on his hands and knees in front of where Gunnar sits in one of the room's chairs. Every single nerve ending in his entire body lit up like the fucking Forth of July as he bounces between the push of Gunnar’s heavy, wide dick in his mouth, over his tongue and the familiar slick drag of Cas' fingers expertly prepping him for what's next.
Teasing brushes every so often against his prostate send shocks of pleasure rocketing through Dean.
“Fuck.” Gunnar hisses through clenched teeth as Dean’s throat spasms with a groan in response to a well placed jab at the sparking spot deep inside of him.
“Off.” Thick, calloused fingers tug roughly at his hair. “Jesus Christ, your fucking mouth.” Gunnar gasps when Dean pulls away from his dick with an obscene slurping pop.
“I warned you he was insatiable.” Cas chuckles lowly behind him but Dean’s too busy nuzzling at Gunnar’s strong thighs to respond. All his focus consumed by the twitch of muscles beneath his cheek.
“You ain’t lying.” Gunnar agrees; reaching for the condom that Cas passes over Dean’s shoulder.
“Ready?” Cas’ question is followed by a sharp nip at Dean’s ear lobe as he drapes himself against the length of Dean’s back.
Fuck yes, he is. More than.
Gunnar’s just got the condom on before Dean climbs to straddle his lap. Leaning forward for an impatient kiss as the wrestler’s massive hands knead his ass, fingers stroking his hole while his tongue slips between Dean's panting lips.
“Cmon, cmon.” Dean's demanding huff shatters into a moan when suddenly Cas' wet tongue joins the digits already pressing into him.
Dean loves any time Cas eats him out. Can’t get enough of it, honestly. But there’s just something about the way his tongue filthily flicks between the space of someone else’s scissoring fingers, that never fails in setting Dean’s blood on fire.
“Fuck me, fuck me.” Dean begs. His fingernails dig into Gunnar’s shoulders; hips grinding toward where the pair he's slotted in between work in tandem to bring him pleasure.
Just as he starts feeling like he’s going to fly apart at the seams they take pity on him. One of Cas' hands a steadying presence on his hip as the other finally guides Gunnar's dick to Dean's entrance.
The air leaves Dean's lungs in a powerful whoosh as he impatiently rocks back, taking Gunnar's dick to the hilt.
Dean's the farthest thing from a blushing virgin but Gunnar is fucking huge and the stinging stretch burns bright but oh, so good.
“Perfect.” Cas' murmurs; lips and teeth insistent at Dean’s neck and jawline as his hands sooth Dean’s trembling stomach then down further to firmly grasp his dick.
Cas’ own erection is thick and hot, along the cleft of his ass. Teasing where Dean and Gunnar are already joined.
Dean can't believe this is really happening.
He's got Gunnar Lawless' dick up his ass.
He and Cas are gonna have to step up their game next time they go looking for another partner because no other encounter is gonna be able to come close to this awesomeness.
Gunnar’s hands are shaky where they’re clamped tight to Dean’s waist. His pupils blown wide and dark with lust, breath hitching as he waits for Dean to start moving.
Which he does with a dirty grin as he lifts his body slightly so he can sink back down to move in tauntingly slow circles.
Except it doesn’t happen. Instead Gunnar meets him with a thrust that knocks Dean forward and wipes the cocky smile off his face.
“Fuck yes.” Dean shouts; grabbing onto the back of the chair, his fingers scrabbling against leather when Gunnar immediately begins jackhammering into him.
This beats every wet dream he ever had about the wrestler as a horny teenager.
The thought has Dean breathlessly laughing as he’s effortlessly bounced in Gunnar’s lap.
“What’s so funny?” Cas questions; hot hands leaving even hotter trails over Dean’s sweaty thighs.
“Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.” Dean groans; twisting so he can bring their mouths together in a sloppy over the shoulder kiss.
“Glad I could help.” Gunnar chimes in as Cas pulls away just long enough to grab the discarded lube.
Dean’s stomach does a Pavlovian swoop at the click of the bottle, hips restlessly shifting when Gunnar’s relentless pace comes to a halt.
As always, Cas takes things slow and Dean’s practically whining by the time two cool, slick fingers nudge in beside Gunnar’s dick.
“You’re beautiful like this.” Cas pants while adding another finger. “So eager to be split open wide.”
“Yeah, I am. So less talking, more fucking.” Dean’s impatient growl earns him a sharp slap to the ass; the bite of the blow offering a slight distraction as Cas moves to finally slide inside.
This is the part Dean loves the most. The first moment after he’s got Cas and someone else seated deep. His body tight and stretched around them.
“Goddamn.” Gunnar gasps and Dean's once again smug that he's the one that has the other man shaking.
“Good ain’t it?” With a moan, Dean arches, more than ready to get this party really started.
Cas takes the hint and begins with slow rolls of his hips. Every push into Dean's body sending lightning up his spine.
“There we go.” He praises when Gunnar joins with tentative counter movements of his own.
Dean wills his body to relax. To take everything that's given to him as Cas wraps his arms tight around his middle, forehead pressed to the nape of Dean's neck as his rhythm speeds up.
"Yeah, yeah that's it. That's it." Dean's lascivious shouts echo loudly around the room.
Fuck. He's not gonna last long.
Never does when they're like this. There's just something about being completely open and at the whim of others' pleasure that sets him off like a rocket. He rarely ever even has to place a hand on his own dick.
He's already too close. Can feel the heat coiling tight at the base of his spine, right above where Cas and Gunnar are pounding into him.
"Shit. Oh shit. Gonna come. Gonna..." Dean doesn't even get to finish before the tension snaps, whipping through him as he comes in the scant space between he and Gunnar's bodies.
Gunnar looks absolutely wild as he grabs Dean by the back of the head, pulling him down into a kiss that's all teeth and darting tongue as he slams into Dean's pliant body a half a dozen more times before going tense with a growl against Dean's abused lips.
"C'mon, Cas. C'mon, baby. Give it to me." Dean urges; not even sure if his words are understood in his foggy post-orgasm haze.
Dean knows they are though when Cas is suddenly pulling out with a deep rumbling groan and the hot splash of come is hitting his lower back.
His limbs feel like they're full of jello and he can't help the whole body jerk that happens when Gunnar runs a palm over his chest; rough calluses catching his nipples and sending shrieks of oversensitivity through him.
"Holy shit." Dean huffs. His voice is rough from screaming and his thighs burn in the most awesome way.
"Indeed." Cas purrs; nuzzling his neck. Lips slick against his heated skin while his hand trail over the sticky mess of come on Dean's stomach.
Dean starts squirming at the ticklish feeling but damn near falls off Gunnar's lap when the wrestler grabs Cas' wrist and starts lapping his hand clean.
"You fuckers are gonna kill me." Dean protests, but not too adamantly as he watches his husband's long fingers dip into Gunnar's mouth.
"Not a bad way to go out." Gunnar agrees once he's thoroughly licked every digit on Cas' right hand.
"It'd definitely be one for the record books." Dean happily chuckles while leaning back into the solid warmth of Cas' chest.