Archive of Our Own ^beta

This is a bad idea.

“Hold still.”

He only knows how to love like flying too close to the sun, Gabriel said, and he can’t not love you, Sam, so don’t ask the impossible.

“Are you watching?”

“I’m watching.”

Ask yourself what you’ve got to teach him so that neither of you drown. Ask me to figure out how to get the message across because if nothing else, you have to admit I’m good at that.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the spot.”

“Take the gag out.”

“Nah. Get what you get and don’t throw a fit.”

And Sam had agreed. It’s not saying yes to Lucifer, (if anyone, he’s placing himself in Gabriel’s hands) but it does mean being in his presence, feeling that electric and easy connection between them pull taut across a room. Learning moderation in turn, since his own instincts are to fall to his knees in worship or to taste Lucifer’s blood on his tongue or to chant yes, fill me up, make me whole- Gabriel’s smarter than him about that, or Sam is an idiot to trust the guy who was still trying to drag a yes out of him and Dean a few months ago, but either way, he grinds his teeth into the ball gag in his mouth and can’t say a word.

Gabriel doesn’t understand moderation either, but he’s the hedonist to Sam’s utter denial, an attempt at striking a balance. Sam would suspect ulterior motives if not for the way Lucifer’s eyes burned into Gabriel for telling him to stay where he was or how Gabriel’s hands shook while tying Sam’s to the headboard. He’s blocking Lucifer’s view when it happens, but he can’t stop Sam from seeing. There’s no quip or punishment for being unlucky enough to catch a glimpse, only a quick carry on from that moment, ‘ignore that, look away, nothing to see here’.

It’s better that Sam is gagged. He’s not sure what he would have said to comfort Gabriel, if he even would. How to say ‘don’t worry, you’ll be okay’ when the devil is visible over his shoulder looking like he wants to tear Gabriel apart for touching his things?

But that’s the whole point. They have to teach him. Sam is not-

Sam is his, but Gabriel got there first.

Sam’s not expecting how hot Gabriel is going to be inside. They aren’t this. They fuck around, half-desperate, half-angry, like either of them have any control over it, like Sam’s not the scab Gabriel picks at until it bleeds and Gabriel isn’t the knife Sam is holding against his own throat to test how steady his grip is. They’re blow jobs in a back alley where the bricks leave dust on Sam’s jacket and he steps in something nasty on the way out. They’re a hand down Sam’s pants while they hide behind dusty microfilm, someone’s distracted, someone’s a distraction, but Sam’s not the one who makes time stand still until they’re finished. They’re too-close rutting in the back of the Impala, where Sam doesn’t fit except for when Gabriel wants him to, one or both of them moan the wrong name, and Gabriel bites him too hard when it’s him, and Sam digs his fingers into Gabriel’s back until it hurts when it’s the other way around.

But like he said, Satan’s gonna ride Sam’s ass one way or another. Time will tell if Gabriel is taking Sam for a test ride before turning him in or if he’s the getaway driver for if this plan goes sour.

Right now, he’s hard to fit a metaphor to, rolling his hips over Sam until he’s got him as deep as he likes. There’s performance in his projection, the way he groans and arches his back, sliver of an eye open to see if Lucifer’s still there, still looking. Lucifer is. He can’t seem to pick a place to focus on, the weight of his gaze leaving a trail over Sam’s skin. They land on his straining cock last, right where it enters Gabriel. Gabriel’s a teacher. Sam’s an example. He’s never worn a cock ring before, and it’s a constant reminder on the edge of his pleasure.

He works the gag between his teeth again. It’s the only outlet he has. He clenches his fists against the rope uselessly. Gabriel loses a little of his tension as he finds his rhythm, either secure in the fact that if Lucifer hasn’t killed him yet, he probably won’t do it at all, or he’s downed a shot of pleasure from his vessel’s nerves to fry his own reasoning. His vessel’s cock bobs up against his stomach as he rides Sam, dabbing it with precome. Sam watches it. He absently sucks at the gag as he remembers the feel of it in his mouth. Gabriel is a map of memories, good and bad. A stake pressed under his chin, his cock wet with Sam’s own come as Sam jerked him off, his body warm and heavy on top of Sam in the moments before he remembered how to speak, all collected and preserved. At first, in the way Sam remembers every hunt, a series of warnings, but then curious turned reverent turned sour turned accepting, until Sam could see an outrageous item on the menu of some tourist trap and think Gabriel would try that. Casual blasphemy is the least of his worries.

“Still with us?” Gabriel says. He grabs Sam’s chin and tilts it up. Sam is starting to drool around the gag, but Gabriel wipes his thumb through it and looks very pleased with himself. Sam makes a disgruntled noise that can’t in any way be interpreted as a yes, but for that, Gabriel pats him on the head dismissively. “Good boy. Keep that cock hard, Sam. I plan on getting a lot of use out of it.” He punctuates that by sinking to the base again. The metal ring around Sam’s cock presses against Gabriel’s rim, but the ones squeezing Sam’s balls are far more torturous. Sam grunts, wrists flexing against the rope.

All Sam can hear is the Gabriel fucking himself on his cock. He’s leaning back a little more, grinding down at an angle that has his cock jerking freely. His hands are gripping Sam’s legs behind him to keep steady. He’ll bruise. Gabriel’s not good at being subtle.

It’s Gabriel who catches Lucifer trying to step closer. His head snaps so fast that someone human might have gotten whiplash.

“Back off,” he orders.

They don’t actually have a plan for if Lucifer decides not to play along with them. There’s nothing Sam can do. There’s very little Gabriel could either, and most of it would end up being as effective as a fly swatter on an alligator.

Lucifer looks between Sam and his brother. Gabriel’s arms are trembling as he holds himself up, the head of Sam’s cock just inside his hole. 

“I just want to touch him,” Lucifer says, softly. “We can share, Gabriel.”

“You’re already sharing,” Gabriel shoots back. He doesn’t leave Lucifer a choice in that matter.

The room is too small for them, and Sam is too human.

Gabriel doesn’t take it back. Lucifer glares. Sam tries not to make a noise when he feels Gabriel’s hole squeeze his cock.

Sam’s not sure which of them Lucifer takes a step back for. He can see Gabriel’s eyes widen before he drops his brother’s gaze so that Lucifer won’t see his surprise. Sam gets Gabriel’s secrets. Lucifer lost his right to them. That doesn’t mean Gabriel gives Sam long to think about it. He drops down onto Sam again, and Sam tosses his head back with a moan muffled by his gag. There’s no patience left in Gabriel, adrenaline high from even that brief confrontation and he rides it out on Sam. Sam is dragged to the edge of coming and held there relentlessly, the metal so tight around his cock that it aches with every little twitch.

Gabriel has no restrictions. When he wants to come, he does. He forces Sam inside where he’s tight and hot, and Sam has to feel every drag of his walls against his dick with no relief in sight. Gabriel’s cock jumps as he comes, spitting his release over Sam’s stomach and chest. He’s quiet, mouth open around a gasp that never comes. His eyes are shut. He breathes needlessly.

He pushes himself forward, releasing Sam’s legs. They ache where he was gripping them, taking some of Sam’s focus off of where his balls hurt with how much he needs to come. He’s still inside Gabriel, massaged by the slowing rhythm of his orgasm.

“See,” Gabriel says, voice rough but recovering quickly, “you’re so focused on possessing Sam, I bet you never even considered all the fun you could be having outside his body.” Sam bites the gag again. Gabriel rises until he slips out, and being left with nothing touching him is almost worst than being teased. “I could give you some tips. I’ve got a lot of experience playing with him by now,” Gabriel says to bait Lucifer’s jealousy.

“If you’re going to taunt me with him-“ Lucifer’s voice dips dangerously.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gabriel interrupts. “You proved you can restrain yourself. Good boys get treats. Isn’t that right, Sam?” Sam groans. Lucifer looks more interested in the offer than annoyed by Gabriel, and there’s a victory all on its own. Gabriel slips off of Sam. His come is drying on Sam’s chest, an undeniable claim even as Lucifer joins them on the bed. Lucifer’s fingers brush Sam’s tied wrists, a gentle coolness spreading over where Sam’s struggled against the ropes too hard and irritated his skin. It’s the first time Lucifer has ever touched him, and for a moment, Sam’s world is only the two of them and yes, yes, yes!

All Lucifer hears is an unintelligible murmur behind the gag. He smiles at Sam like he knows what he’s trying to say, but though he brushes the strap that keeps the gag in place, he doesn’t remove it. Everywhere he touches, Sam’s skin tingles.

”You should be naked for this,” Gabriel says, but it’s not mocking. There’s something kinder there: instruction. Lucifer looks down at his own clothes like he’s hardly considered them before, but now they stand as an obstacle between him and Sam. For that terrible offense, they disintegrate with a blink. Sam’s soul knows Lucifer, but this is the first time he’s really gotten to look at the body he wears.

His eyes don’t fall on Lucifer’s broad shoulders or the appealing trail of hair that guides a gaze under his belly to his cock. Instead, Sam finds himself staring at a scar on the right side of his abdomen, thin and faded. He wonders why Lucifer kept it. Angels may do whatever they want with their vessels once they’ve taken them, and Lucifer might wear other wounds against his will, burns that Sam can see have begun to extend down his body, but this slate could have been wiped clean. Gabriel certainly doesn’t keep his scars around where just anyone can see them.

Would Lucifer leave Sam’s scars? Would he let the knot of tissue that mars Sam’s spine remain long after the world burned? 

Gabriel moves behind Lucifer. Lucifer twitches away from his touch into Sam. “Relax, if I was planning to stick a blade in your back, I’d have done it before Sam had a chance to start drooling over you,” Gabriel says. Sam tips his head so that he can shoot Gabriel a look, ignoring the spit that’s still escaping around the gag.

”You couldn’t, little brother.” Lucifer sounds sure.

”Probably not.” Gabriel doesn’t. 

Lucifer caresses Sam’s chest, discovering that touching his nipples makes his back arch. He’s rolling one between his fingers and listening to Sam whimper when a breath is forced out of his lungs in surprise. For a second, Sam thinks Gabriel has stabbed him, but then Gabriel’s hands are the ones guiding Lucifer down onto his cock. Sam’s been allowed to crawl back from the edge, but when it’s Lucifer he’s sinking into, that means nothing. His nerves light up as he yanks his wrists against the rope. If not for the ring, he’d have come immediately.

Lucifer is frozen. His hands are clenched around Sam’s shoulders like he’s seeking something to secure himself to. Sam’s supposed to be his vessel, not the one who enters him, overwhelms him. 

“Never felt that before, huh?” There’s it is again. Gentle. Gabriel’s strokes his brother’s hip once before withdrawing his hand.

“No,” Lucifer forces out. 

“Try moving,” Gabriel suggests. “It can get even better.” Lucifer follows his advice slowly. Sam’s not sure what he’s afraid of, unexpected pain or all too expected pleasure. He gets the latter, inhaling shakily as he rolls his hips. He doesn’t lift himself up and down Sam’s cock like Gabriel. He rocks against it, slow and heavy. Sam can see the moment he finds his prostate. His half-open mouth rounds around a syllable that doesn’t make it out. His dick leaks. A clear, thick drop gathers at his slit and ends up on Sam’s stomach.

All the while, Sam’s hung on the precipice. It never stops, an illusory note that rises higher and higher, overlapping sensations that don’t let him drop. Lucifer is cool where Gabriel had been hot, but Gabriel prepped him and so the wet, easy fit of Sam’s cock inside him is familiar. Gabriel doesn’t like to be left out. Lucifer rides Sam, and Gabriel strokes over his balls with a finger. He traces the edge of the metal constricting them. Sam whimpers again. They hurt so fucking good. 

“Lean forward,” Gabriel tells his brother, and Lucifer does it without thinking. It puts new pressure on his hole, and he moans. Sam will never be able to get the sound of him out of his head now that he knows it. “Feeling pent up, Sam?” Every sensation has been turned up a hundredfold. Sam can feel the pad of Gabriel’s finger trail over his balls. They tighten, so close to release, and the metal stops him from coming again. 

Sam makes a garbled attempt at a name. He has no idea which of theirs it is. 

“Gabriel,” Lucifer says clearly. His voice is tight. Gabriel hums, flicking Sam’s balls lightly and making Sam’s eyes roll back into his head.

“Ride it out, Luci,” he says. “Enjoy yourself, and maybe start rethinking your plans. There’s no orgasms at the end of the world.” Lucifer is much louder than Gabriel. He bows over Sam as he comes, pressing his face into Sam’s shoulder. Sam can feel his gasps against his skin. His come splashes over Gabriel’s, claim on claim. 

When he raises his head again, he looks lighter than Sam has ever seen him. Maybe it’s only the temporary euphoria of his first ever orgasm, but Sam wants it to be more. Lucifer leans forward and brushes a kiss against the corner of Sam’s stretched lips. Sam’s mouth aches a little too, collecting with the twinges at his wrists and the throb in his groin. 

If he’s lucky, this will never have to end.

”I want to see him do that,” Lucifer tells Gabriel. Gabriel clicks his tongue.

”I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.” Lucifer glances back at him, frowning. “If you want Sam to come for you, that’s going to take…” Gabriel counts off his fingers. The number does not correlate to the one he ends up saying. “At least two more rounds. Maybe more.” 

Sam moans. He’s already desperate, and Gabriel wants to wring him out for so much longer. That only makes his cock throb more, denied.

Lucifer is watching Gabriel. His hand is resting over Sam’s heart now. 

He has Sam. There’s no need for him to pay any attention to what Gabriel wants. There’s no need for him to keep sharing his vessel. 

He lifts himself off of Sam’s cock. Sam whines. Gabriel quickly takes Lucifer’s place on top of him, and soon, Sam is being used by an archangel again. Lucifer lingers even closer than Gabriel had during his turn, ghosting his touch over Gabriel’s side every few seconds. His eyes are glued to where Sam enters him with new appreciation. 

They have to let Sam come eventually. After all, this is about moderation. Lucifer can’t have everything all to himself. Sam can’t deny what he wants forever. Gabriel…

Gabriel gets to come all over Sam again. He switches off with Lucifer, and this time, he’s pressed against Lucifer’s back as he fucks himself onto Sam, encouraging him. Sam begins to lose track of time as his world narrows down to nothing but a pleasurable ache and their voices.