Dean blinks.

They're no longer standing inside the dingy lit basement of the hideaway, walls smeared in dog's and Raphael's blood — but surrounded by dark cherrywood pews and mosaic, rainbow-hued glass windows high above them all. Son of a bitch.

Picturesquely outlined by the sunglow of an early morning, Cas observes him making eye contact with Sam and then asking, "Where's Bobby?"

"Safe," he murmurs, neutrally, "for now, if you cooperate."

Dean's mouth curls into an aggravated scowl as what he's gonna mentally deem 'Douchebag-God-Cas' steps onto the bottom stair of a tall, ceremonial alter with fine, spotless cloth.

"What exactly do you want with us? You've got the souls," Sam points out. His empty fingers clench into themselves.

He misses having a weapon that worked on ex-angels, Dean supposes.

"Where did you zap us, anyway?"

Cas tells them, straight-faced as they've always seen him, "An affluent church within Jerusalem. It will become one of the many that will profess their love onto me their Lord."

"You are so full of it," Dean hisses out, gritting his jaw and teeth slightly. "Excuse the pun."

Cas doesn't react to the malevolence in Dean's mock-grin. Instead, he turns his full attention to the younger Winchester, lifting up his blood-specked, overcoat arms in a caring, brotherly gesture. "Sam, I believe you denied me a hug some time ago…"

Sam's darker hazel eyes widen and he sucks in a noisy, anticipated breath as the ex-angel takes another step towards him. One further step is all it takes for Dean to react. Anticipating his move, one of Cas's arms shoot out. The pad of his index finger gently touches the hairless space between Dean's eyebrows, stilling him in place.

"You'll have your turn in a moment, Dean," Cas reminds him.

Dean's own green eyes roll wildly in their sockets as he struggles against a powerful and invisible hold on him. Strong enough to keep him silent, though his throat spasms with an undisclosed scream of Sam! when Cas wraps his arms around him in a secure hug, pinning Sam's arms flat to his sides. Sam's body can't fight worth shit either once he comes in full contact with 'Douchebag-God-Cas', turns out. The neutral expression of Cas's face disappears with a faint and pleasant smile. "There… hugging is not bad at all."

Something feels off. And kinda… extra tight underneath Dean's cargo jacket. Wasn't his undershirt much looser a few minutes ago?

Dean absently notices the change a minute after Cas traps him inside his own skin. It becomes clearer after the one-sided, lovey-dovey hug-fest in front of him ends with Cas backing away, particularly satisfied — the brawny muscles on Sam's chest stretch out the blue material of the I WUV HUGS teddy bear t-shirt.

You've got to be fudgin' kidding me.

He grunts, face twitching with outright irritation when Cas has his long, snuggly, forceful hug with him — his clothes smell like a combination of things that jerks Dean's gut; a human musk; rainwater; sour, rancid blood.

"I think you two should hug as well." At the command, Dean is moving, but his limbs aren't his to control. His balance remains precarious until he pushes at the heel, turning to his brother with a similar, weirded-out look. Into a clumsily maneuvered embrace, Sam's warmed, right cheek presses into the side of Dean's neck and ear as they lean into each other.

"Dean," Sam wheezes, cringing.

At least their mouths are working now. "If we make it outta this alive, you say nothin' to no one, you hear me?" Dean growls low.

"Dude, k-keep crushing my ribs and I never w-will."

"Sam, don't even—whatthefu—!—?" Dean curses aloud, panicked and unable to look around at the source of it. The feel of another male form closing around them — oh, wait.

Cas' eyelids begin to slip together with some semblance of tranquility into their group hug.

It registers eventually that it really the right term for it is 'Douchebag-And-Maniac-Hugger-God-Cas', that the early sun from the windows is too damn bright in Dean's stinging eyes, and that is this situation… still not cool at all…

There'll never be enough therapy after getting out of this.








Based on my efforts of scouring 15-16 separate threads for the SPN_Kink Meme… my working theory is that you aren't fully initiated into the fandom until you do a dub-con or non-con.

Does this count? x3


"So now that Castiel is God, he wants that hug that Sam cheated him out of.

And while he's at it, he might as well get a couple of good squeezes in from Dean.

And watching Sam and Dean hug is nice too.

And he wants to try out group hugging. After all, that corporate worship thing is popular for a reason, right?

Would prefer no actual non-con sex, but humiliation in the form of having to wear the "I Wuv Hugs" shirt as official worship garb would be awesome ESPECIALLY if Sam has to wear one too. (So I have a vision of that thing stretched to fit Sam's form. It's weird, I know.)"