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“Oh no…”
It was the first thing Dean heard upon waking, and much like hearing ‘oops’ from your barber, hearing ‘oh no’ from someone who had just cast a spell on you was not a good sign.
His eyes snapped open to see Sam and Cas hovering over him with matching looks of concern. He searched their faces with growing alarm.
“Oh no?! What do you mean ‘oh no’?”
“Just try to stay calm, Dean. I’m sure Sam can—“
“Why do I need to stay calm? Sam, what did you fucking do?”
He scrambled to sit up on what he quickly realized was a cot in the infirmary (another really not great sign), but was stopped by the feeling of— Okay, what the absolute fuck was that? He swung his legs off the side of the bed, patting around behind him with ever-expanding horror.
Sam was looking at him with wide eyes, and Cas was staring just above him, head tilted slightly, eyes squinted in curiosity.
“You passed out, but nothing else happened until a minute ago when…”
“When what, Sam?”
Dean was afraid to look over his shoulder. He could feel what he was touching, but he refused to believe it.
Sam just looked at him helplessly and reached in his pocket for his phone, held the camera up to Dean’s face. Dean stared back at himself, not quite able to reconcile the sight before him with what he knew he should be seeing.
There were ears growing out of his hair.
They were furry and tufted, about five inches high, and almost looked like they belonged to a fox or maybe some kind of lynx, but the honey-brown tabby pattern he saw as he flicked them (what the fuck) was unmistakably that of a housecat. Which meant the thing growing out of his back—that he realized belatedly he had been petting for some time now—was a bushy, overgrown cat’s tail, and what. the. fuck.
“I think you’re a Maine coon.”
Sam offered the information like somehow it was supposed to help, and Dean just stared at him, a low, rumbling growl starting in his throat. “Sam, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Sam took a step back, holding up his hands, but Cas stepped forward, confidently reaching for one of Dean’s new ears. He cupped the back of it, thumb moving inside and tickling the long hairs there until he pressed down, rubbing gently.
Dean melted.
He leaned into Cas’s hand, the rumbling in his throat instantly becoming a purr. His eyelids slipped closed and his mouth fell open on a deep, contented sigh.
“Wow,” Sam breathed, and Dean slowly opened his eyes again to find Sam watching him with a completely different expression.
“Cats have scent glands on their ears where they enjoy being touched,” Cas explained. “Apparently that applies to Dean now as well.”
Sam made an absent noise of agreement but his eyes were on Dean’s, intense. He moved forward again cautiously, expression turning questioning. Dean nodded, gripping the edge of the cot as Cas continued to massage the thin skin of his strange new appendage.
He didn’t know about the whole scent-gland thing, but he did know that what Cas was doing felt fucking amazing. The most incredible sense of calm was spreading through him, seemingly radiating out in waves from the source of Cas’s touch.
The bed dipped and Dean only noticed his eyes had closed again when he had to open them to see Sam sitting beside him, reaching up for his other ear. His big hand cradled it for a moment, fingers stroking lightly up the hairs along the back and making Dean shiver. These new ears were so much more sensitive than his human ones had ever been, and it might have been fascinating if he wasn’t so preoccupied with how fucking good it felt having them both touched at once.
Instead of massaging, Sam began scratching softly at the base, and fuck, that was a completely different, utterly satisfying sensation. Dean moaned, unable to stop himself, and both Sam and Cas hummed in response, dual encouragement.
“That good, huh?” Sam asked, but there was no teasing in his voice, and when Dean looked back at him, he could see his eyes getting darker by the second.
Dean leaned forward to kiss him, couldn’t resist it, moving slow so he wouldn’t dislodge either of their hands. Sam opened to him at once, palm repositioning to more comfortably rest on Dean’s head, fingers scratching through human hair and cat fur in turn, Dean’s scalp prickling and new nerve-endings lighting up.
Dean swiped his tongue into his brother’s mouth and Sam gasped, pulled back immediately. “Jesus, your tongue is rough too,” he half-laughed, obviously bewildered, but then he was kissing Dean again, his own tongue sliding over Dean’s, smooth slickness over tiny spines. Its temperature was almost too hot, and the sheer amount Dean could feel and taste from it was overwhelming, his new tongue gathering so much more information than the old ever could.
Before he could even begin to adapt, Cas was saying, “Let me see,” and tilting Dean’s jaw up toward him with his free hand. He leaned over him, lips soft but insistent on his, his tongue delving into Dean’s mouth to map the same path as Sam’s.
Sam’s mouth moved to Dean’s neck instead, hand now alternating between scratching and rolling Dean’s ear rhythmically in his palm, and Dean could feel himself losing it, breathing too hard into Cas’s mouth, just experiencing the kiss so much more dramatically than he ever had before.
“Very interesting,” Cas decided finally, voice low as he pulled back, gaze intent for a moment, thumb still gently massaging Dean’s ear.
Then he was stepping back and Dean made an involuntary noise of protest, but he was just shedding his trench coat and moving to sit next to Dean on his other side.
“May I touch your tail, Dean?”
The question was completely bizarre, and Dean just blinked hazily at him for a second, still so relaxed somehow despite his rapidly responding body. “Go for it,” he managed after a long moment, thinking nothing could compare to the feeling of Sam and Cas all over his new ears at the same time.
When he’d touched the tail himself, it had just felt like hair. Really soft, extra fluffy hair, but nothing too special from the tail itself. But as soon as Cas touched it, Dean felt like he should have at least known it would feel like someone touching any other part of him. God, a really sensitive, nerve-filled other part of him that sent a tingling shock all the way up his spine the second Cas lightly stroked a hand down it.
Dean’s head tipped back on a gasp, eyes widening as Cas did it again, hand closing a little tighter, fingers combing through the long flare of hairs at the end.
“Mmm, very pleasant. Feel how soft it is, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes tracked over Dean’s face, expression openly hungry as he pulled a knee up on the bed, right hand switching places with his left on Dean’s ear. Cas’s hand brushed along his tail one more time and then moved out of the way for Sam, back to Dean’s other ear. Dean distantly heard himself whimper as Sam’s hand closed around him just a little rougher than Cas’s had been, loose fist stroking smoothly all the way from base to tip, catching in the hairs at the end and letting them run through his fingers.
“Jesus,” Dean groaned, overwhelmed by the combination of all three new sources of sensation being touched at once. Cas’s thumb was rubbing over the back of his ear while he murmured something to Sam about it feeling like velvet, Sam’s fingers feeling along the tufted edge of the other, his lips dragging against Dean’s jaw, saying something about the color being like Dean’s hair and skin mixed together.
Dean was trying to keep up with them, to do something other than drift on the bone-deep looseness flowing through him, but he wasn’t having much success. Cas’s other hand was running slowly up and down his back now, soothing, like Dean could possibly be more soothed than he already was. He could feel how hard he was, could feel each stroke of his tail and touch to one of his ears connecting some serious sexual dots for him, but he also felt so damn serene at the same time. Maybe his dick was just very well-trained in responding to Sam and Cas touching him in unison, and the new cat part of him was somewhere else entirely.
They were still talking around him, like he really was more cat than human, and for some reason Dean truly didn’t understand, he was more turned on by it than he was annoyed. The cerebral part of him was almost totally shut down, thoughts remote, and Sam and Cas were feeding that whether they knew it or not.
Cas’s hand slipped down a little farther, fingertips brushing the area at the very base of Dean’s spine, and Dean flinched like he’d been slapped, jolted so quickly out of his calm it was like someone had cattle prodded him.
“Holy fuck,” he choked, hands scrambling for something solid to grip, reaching across Cas’s and Sam’s bent knees to clutch their opposite thighs, just needing to hold on.
“Oh. He must have the usual gland here as well,” Cas remarked way too casually, and all Dean could think was fucking understatement, because this was not the same as his ears. Dean hadn’t even realized his tail wasn’t growing straight out of his back, but apparently it was surrounded by at least a small patch of fur blending into his skin, because Cas was now gently scratching it, and it was like nothing Dean had ever felt before.
“Your nails are sharp,” Sam hissed, but he definitely didn’t sound like he was complaining. He shifted his hips slightly, and Dean could feel both him and Cas equally hard under his forearms, but he couldn’t focus on anything except the full-body pleasure erupting again and again from that one fucking spot. It was so intense it didn’t even make sense, and some wires had to be seriously crossed somewhere for how immensely sexual the sensation was.
“Jesus, look at him,” Sam said reverently, and Dean could feel their eyes on him even with his own squeezed closed, didn’t even want to think about what kind of face he must be making.
“Hmm, what if you used your mouth, Sam?”
Cas’s voice was distant, and Dean barely even caught the words. He was somewhere far away, fingernails of both hands rhythmically pressing in and out of Sam’s and Cas’s thighs as he basked in the feeling of all four of their hands on him. Some part of his brain realized he was kneading them and how fucking embarrassing that was, but that part was small and very unimportant.
He vaguely heard Sam ask, “Like this, you mean?” and then suddenly there was breath on his ear where Sam’s fingers had been, warm lips on ridiculously sensitive skin, hot tongue flicking out, testing.
“Oh fucking Christ,” Dean moaned, and it came out like an accusation more than anything, like he was actually saying ‘how could you’ instead.
“Yes, exactly like that,” Cas answered, and Dean heard just a little bit of a smile in his voice. His eyes flashed to Cas’s face and he growled, the sound too deep in his chest, too animalistic. His left hand shot up to grab his jaw, fingers on the back of his head, yanking him in. He kissed him hard, rough tongue scraping into his mouth, and heard Sam groan behind him, breathing a soft shit, so hot, into the long, delicate hairs of the ear he was still mouthing.
Cas made a quiet little grunt of pain or pleasure or both into his mouth as Dean’s nails dug a little into his scalp, but he didn’t stop scratching through the hair at the base of Dean’s spine or rubbing the ear closest to him. Sam was now sucking on the edge of the other ear, hand still stroking smooth and consistent down his tail, and okay, fucking enough with this new cat-only part of him. Sharp nails aside, he still had fingers and he very much planned to use them.
He let go of Sam’s thigh and reached for the long-since painful tent in the pajama pants he was wearing—only to have Sam grab his hand immediately and put it right back down on his leg, fingers threading with his as he pressed them down into his own pants.
“Uh-uh, not happening,” he said as Dean dislodged himself somewhat violently from Cas at the denial, and the smile in his voice was more like a grin. Dean turned back so he could see the goddamn bossy-little-brother face that belonged to that smug voice, and instead of another angry growl, what came out was, “Touch me then,” in what was unquestionably and mortifyingly a whine.
Cas said, “We are touching you, Dean,” factual rather than teasing, and Sam actually laughed. Dean’s irritated impatience flared hot and hard, and for a second he contemplated finding out if his teeth were as sharp as his nails by way of Sam’s neck, but then Sam’s hand was shoving his pants down, his cock swinging up onto his t-shirt. Dean had a horrifying flashback to something mildly insane Cas had once said about barbed cat penises and looked down hastily, but nope, it was familiar as ever and way too hard, the movement of his stomach as he breathed streaking pre-come across his shirt.
“Thank God,” he said aloud, and Sam snorted, probably having the same thought.
Then Dean watched as Sam’s long fingers wrapped around him, big thumb swiping over the head and slicking pre-come down his length. It was instantly too much and he buried his face in Cas’s neck, gasping out a moan as his new ear rubbed along the stubble of Cas’s jaw and Sam tightened his grip. He went back to sucking on Dean’s other ear, chest pressed hard against his shoulder.
Dean’s arm curled back around Sam’s head, clutching his hair as Sam jerked him hard with no build-up at all. He was murmuring things like yeah, that’s it, good boy, you can take it, rough and filthy, until Dean was panting, so close in such an embarrassingly short amount of time.
Dean’s other hand was clenched around Cas’s tie, holding him in place with his arm around Dean’s back, hand pushed up under his shirt, and it was so fucking hot, having both of them surrounding him so thoroughly. Cas turned his head, let his lips brush so soft over Dean’s ear at the same moment his fingers slipped back down to that miraculous spot above his tail, scratching lightly, and Jesus fucking Christ, it was his utter gentleness in such complete contrast to Sam that finally did it.
Dean’s orgasm hit him like a shock wave, forceful and entirely without warning. His body seized up so badly on the initial contraction he almost pulled Sam and Cas off the bed, but they must have held him up because he soon lost track of them, other than Sam’s hand still ruthless on his cock. Somewhere he heard Sam’s fuck yes and Cas’s that’s perfect Dean, but he was floating, nothing but hard pleasure and the feeling of come striping up over his chest, hot through his t-shirt.
He gradually came back to himself, surprised to find his back was on the bed, legs still hanging off the edge. He’d automatically swept his tail to the side mid-orgasm apparently, which was weird and vaguely impressive. Cas and Sam were both looking down at him with matching half-lidded eyes, and wasn’t that a sight. He breathed out heavily, feeling stupidly content considering the circumstances, and smiled up at them, slow and extraordinarily feline.
“All right Sam, I guess you get to live.”