Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What was it you said after the last time you had a conversation with yourself?”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. He remembers it vividly. It was after that weird African dream root thing when he ran into a shitty version of himself and shot a round into his chest. 

“I said, uh, that I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to fuck myself.”

The other Dean cocks an eyebrow and steps deliberately into Dean’s personal space. The rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat increases. He swallows.

Other Dean looks down at his lips. “What year you from again? 2010?”

“Two—2009.”

“Yeah, I was a fucking pussy back then.” He places a hand on Dean’s face, slotting his fingers behind his ear and stroking his thumb across his cheek confidently. “I’ve learned a few things.”

Dean remembers that this is his fucking self he’s talking to, and all his nerves disappear. “Don’t tell me you top now,” he says in a low tone.

Other Dean smirks and tugs on Dean’s ear a little. “Lucky for you, I do.”

“Don’t—don’t we have—um—” Dean tries to focus as a very familiar leg slots between his, “—ah, Colt—you were going to go find the...”

“Shh, we don’t have to leave ‘til midnight.” He puts his other hand on Dean’s hip and claws at fabric until he hits skin. “Oh, I still had some weight on me in 2009.”

“I noticed...you and Cas are thinner. Everybody’s thinner. Food scarce?” Dean manages to ask while an army jacket presses against his chest, a thigh holster presses into his leg.

“It’s fucking awful, man. Eat as much goddamn pie as you possibly can.”

Dean doesn’t get to respond to that. His future self finally pushes their mouths together, and it should be weird—he knows it should be weird—but it just isn’t.

It’s perfect. His future self is more aggressive than Dean is, and he quickly becomes insistent upon using his tongue. So Dean pushes right back, sliding his tongue past lips before pulling back to bite. 

After a few minutes, other Dean pulls away just slightly and asks, “This too much for you? I know you like soft and gentle.”

“Good to know future me is a condescending dickbag,” Dean answers while roughly reaching between them to cup his future self’s balls. “Think your pants are tight enough, cowboy?”

Other Dean moans and squeezes Dean’s cheeks between his thumb and fingers. “Resources are scarce. Turn around.”

Dean does as he’s told. He’s about to brace himself against the wall when other Dean wraps him up tight against his chest, so Dean instinctively drops his hands over his forearms and arches his neck back so other Dean can kiss it.

They’re incredibly close to each other, but Dean still wants to be closer. He pushes his ass back against his other self’s erection and feels a strange tingling in his chest when he hears his own voice growling in his ear. Other Dean moves his hands up to Dean’s fly and quickly gets it open so he can take Dean in his hand.

Dean gasps and reaches back to find purchase around his other self’s neck. His other hand joins other Dean’s around his cock, and they both start jacking fast and hard. It’s more pressure than any hand job Dean’s ever gotten, and he’s already pre-coming way more than should be possible. 

“If you...keep that up...I’m not...going to...make it,” Dean manages to say while his future self is rubbing his thumb over the head and smearing pre-come over the tip.

“Here, take over,” other Dean commands gruffly as he removes his hand from Dean’s cock and yanks both their pants down unceremoniously.

The thigh holster skitters across the floor, and Dean laughs. His laughter is choked off, however, when he feels the slide of his own cock between his ass cheeks. 

They rock together for a couple of minutes, other Dean’s fingers pushing into Dean’s mouth so Dean can get more than one taste of himself. Other Dean’s other hand is gripping Dean’s hip and moving his body in the rhythm he wants.

“Suck me off,” other Dean demands.

Dean spins and drops to his knees, and his mouth and hand simultaneously cover his other self’s cock and start working together perfectly. He’s surprised that he can’t take more of himself in his mouth, but he makes up for it with his hand at the base—pushing the loose skin up and down, squeezing on the upstroke and relaxing on the down, back and forth with the rhythm of his bob until his other self is panting and his legs are shaking.

“Do the—that thing we love—the thing—”

Dean understands immediately, so he angles his neck up and sucks hard while his tongue flattens against his shaft and then circles around and over the head. He hollows his cheeks out again and repeats the pattern several more times, all the while his hand maintaining the rhythm save for the few times he drops his palm to put pressure on his balls.

“OK, OK, stop. Stop. Need to—got to fuck you.”

Realizing he now has the control, Dean stands and pushes his future self back into a chair, kissing him and removing their shirts along the way. Other Dean frantically reaches down and gropes at his army jacket until he comes back up with a bottle of lube.

“Seriously, dude?” Dean asks as he plants himself in his self’s lap.

“End times, man. Hoard shit, keep it close, have a lot of sex.” 

Instead of reaching behind Dean, other Dean goes up between his legs and circles his index finger around his hole several times before pushing past the ring of muscle.

They both breathe deeply, and Dean feels so relaxed that he pushes down on his own finger and silently asks for more. His other self adds a second, and Dean comments, “I’m so glad we have thick fingers.”

Other Dean laughs, and it sounds wrong—like he hasn’t laughed in years.

Dean takes himself in his hand and slowly jacks off, letting more pre-come spurt against his stomach.

“God, we’re hot,” other Dean whispers.

Dean opens his eyes and looks down at himself with a smile. “You’re blushing.”

He adds a third finger and pushes all three in and out in a steady rhythm. “Do you think we’re a little too self-obsessed?”

“Yes.” Dean wraps his other hand around his neck and scratches the familiar hairs there. “We make up for it with self-loathing.”

Other Dean starts to reposition, so Dean lets go of his own cock and grabs his other cock and lifts himself up so they can get lined up right. Dean whines when the fingers disappear, but it only lasts a second before he’s sinking down onto, honest to god, the best cock in the goddamn world.

Everything goes quiet for a minute as they both get accustomed to the feeling. Dean can tell that his other self wants to move already, but he shuts his eyes tight and digs his fingers into Dean’s hips to maintain some semblance of self-control.

“I love a top who knows what it’s like to bottom,” Dean says with a hum.

“The first couple minutes fucking suck, man. You just tell me when to move.”

“I wouldn’t say it sucks, exactly.” Dean pushes his chest out and lifts up on his heels to adjust. “Just takes a minute. Ah, ah, yeah, there.”

“Been a long time since I—ah—bottomed. So, maybe I—ah—remember it differently.” 

“OK, move. Fucking move already.”

Other Dean, surprisingly, starts slow. He just barely lifts his hips up off the chair while pulling Dean down against him. Dean matches the circular rhythm, pushing his hips up and down and around and reveling in the sensation of being filled with himself. 

After several minutes, they pick up the pace and other Dean grabs Dean’s cock with both his hands like he’s fucking masturbating. 

Dean loses control eventually and lets the strength of the man beneath him bounce his body up and down while he keeps his hands steady on his other self’s shoulders. Dean is blissfully relaxed, a stark contrast to his other self’s urgency. Surprisingly, Dean comes first. He lets out a sigh and tilts his head back as his orgasm washes over him. His ass clenches around himself, and other Dean moans loudly.

Dean opens his eyes just in time to see his other self remove his come-covered hands from his cock and shove one of them right into his own mouth. He licks everything up like he can’t get enough of himself, and if Dean wasn’t spent he’d be hard again at the sight.

It takes his other self several more minutes to come, which is perfectly fine with Dean. He comes inside of Dean, which was never even a question to begin with. His future self would’ve told him if he had contracted any diseases in the past few years, and his future self also knows firsthand how fucking amazing it is to feel come fill his ass.

They slump together on the chair, breathing heavily and tracing the lines of their sweat-slick bodies because they’re fucking obsessed with themselves. 

When they’ve finally come down enough to speak, the first thing Dean says is, “You want to eat the come out of my ass?”

Chapter Text

Other Dean furrows his brow and stares into Dean’s eyes as if challenging him.

Dean leans forward and kisses him brutally. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Dean swears his other self purrs like a fucking lion before manhandling him onto his hands and knees on the floor. Dean was too preoccupied to notice before now, but he’s pretty fucking turned on at how much stronger his future self is. He tosses Dean around like a goddamn rag doll.

There’s luckily a rug under Dean, so he grabs helplessly at the fabric as his future self pulls his hips back and licks a line from his balls all the way up to the base of his spine. 

“Fuck, we taste good,” other Dean praises.

Dean’s cock twitches and starts to fill again. He doesn’t reach for it.

Other Dean continues his slow torture, lapping long lines up Dean’s crack to make sure he cleans all the come out. 

After about 10 minutes, Dean can’t take it anymore and shoves his ass back onto his own face. Other Dean spanks him really fucking hard as punishment, and now Dean’s cock is definitely fully erect again.

But then other Dean is soothing over the spank with a soft hand and warm tongue before returning to Dean’s hole and circling the rim with the tip of his tongue over and over again.

They get into a steady rhythm after that, Dean slowly pushing his ass back and forth while his other self prods in and out and teases at the ring of muscle. About half an hour in, he reaches one hand around to Dean’s cock and uses his other to aid his mouth—teasing Dean’s hole with his fingers and occasionally actually pushing one all the way in next to his tongue.

Dean is getting close again, but suddenly something changes.

There’s a moan that’s not his voice. He and his other self both stop and turn to find the intruder standing in the doorway.

Or more like, holding on to the doorframe for dear life, his other hand down the front of his drawstring pants that are already getting stained with sweat and pre-come.  

“Cas, get your fucking ass over here,” other Dean commands, sounding annoyed. “You think you can stand there and watch us and not get in on this? Fucking idiot.”

Cas looks like he wants to give a snarky response back, but he’s too goddamn blissed out of his mind. Dean could come right there untouched just at Cas’ debauched appearance. As soon as he makes his way over to them, Dean sits up on his knees and yanks Cas down to kiss him breathless on the floor. 

“Wow, I didn’t know 2009 me had the balls.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas growls between kisses, but Dean barely registers it.

He’s kissing Cas. Now this is weird. 

Cas has apparently become an expert at this shit since 2009, and Dean feels a possessive stirring low in his belly as Cas tears his shirt over his head and slides out of his pants to reveal that he’s not wearing underwear. This Cas is...different for sure. But good different, Dean thinks as Cas lays him out flat on the rug and slides their erections together while staring down into his eyes.

“Your eyes are glassy,” Dean whispers so his other self can’t hear the affection in his voice. He reaches up with both hands and holds Cas’ face. “Not so blue anymore.”

“A lot’s happened,” Cas says sadly before leaning down and kissing Dean gently, so gently that Dean realizes Cas knows him better than he apparently knows himself.

They move together for a few minutes, Dean rubbing one hand all along Cas’ hip and over his ass and up his back while they kiss. Cas’ hand at some point makes its way between them and teases at both of their cocks.

Eventually, other Dean shows up, too. He looks dumbfounded, like he can’t believe the beauty of the sight in front of him. Dean understands. He knows how much Cas means to them, to both of them.

Other Dean positions himself on his knees behind Cas, and Cas stops kissing Dean and gasps when other Dean pushes his first finger in.

“Shh, shh, it’s OK,” Dean soothes when Cas drops his head against his chest and nuzzles down into his neck. Dean scratches at his hair and smiles.

But then Cas groans loudly and slides his head down Dean’s body until his mouth hits his tip, and Dean nearly shouts.

Despite how exhausted his body is, Dean props himself up on his elbows and watches as his other self works Cas open while Cas’ head bobs on his cock. Cas holds himself up with one arm and positions his other hand around Dean’s shaft, which is somewhat unnecessary considering Cas can get considerably more of Dean into his mouth than Dean himself can.

When other Dean slides himself slowly past Cas’ first ring of muscle, Cas hums around Dean’s length, and Dean actually does shout this time. “Jesus, Cas! Oh, Cas. Fuck, Castiel.”

Other Dean starts moving, faster than he did with Dean, and Cas has to stop giving head while he takes it all in. He makes up for it with his hand though, jacking Dean almost as well as Dean jacked himself. After a few minutes he drops his head back down, and Dean can’t help it anymore. He cants his hips up and down, matching Cas’ rhythm and fucking into his mouth as hard as other Dean is fucking into his ass.

The intensity gets to be too much, so Dean pushes Cas’ head away and shouts, “Sit up, sit up!”

His future self seems to understand what he’s asking for, so he uses that ridiculous strength of his to pull Cas up by the hips and down onto his lap reverse cowboy style. Cas shouts Dean’s name and throws his head back, and Dean scrambles for the lube and coats his own fingers and sticks three inside himself before reaching forward to kiss that wonderful long line of Cas’ neck.

His hole burns with the pressure, but he’s practically pulsing with want, so he doesn’t even care about the pain when he sinks down onto Cas’ cock.

They all simultaneously let out a groan of relief.

Cas wraps his hands around Dean’s neck, other Dean reaches his arms past Cas and around Dean’s ass to squeeze. Dean reaches past Cas as well and pulls at his own hair.

The rhythm, of course, is all shot to hell after that. Cas tries his damnedest to thrust up and down in the same time both Deans thrust up and down, but it proves to be really not worth the effort. They end up laughing and exhausted and they hardly move as they touch each other and kiss each other’s bodies and focus on just how close all of them are.

Dean stares into Cas' glassy eyes and strokes both his hands in the hair at the base of Cas' neck. They smile stupidly at each other, like this is the happiest they've ever been.

"When you return to your Cas, kiss him," Cas says softly.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Make it a promise."

Dean reaches down and takes himself in his hand, but Cas pushes his hand away and wraps his own fingers around Dean's cock instead. "Promise," Dean says as he exhales. Not one to be excluded, other Dean bites Cas' shoulder and then sucks on two of Dean's fingers. 

Eventually they each come. It could be minutes, it could be hours. Who knows. When they’re done, Cas and other Dean both loom over Dean and lick his come off his stomach hungrily before making out with each other while Dean lies motionless beneath them.

“Guys. Guys, c’mon. I’m feeling left out,” Dean pouts jokingly.

But they listen anyway. They both crawl up under each of his arms and lavish his chest and neck in kisses—Cas’ kisses are light, other Dean’s kisses are more like heavy licks.

They lie in silence for a while after, breathing heavy and letting the sweat cool on their spent bodies.

Dean strokes both of their backs reverently. “End times don’t seem so bad.”