A temporary witch's curse has the Winchester brothers swapping bodies. It sucks, but they're handling it. As long as they keep their hands to themselves and Dean quit eyeing the damn scissors with that evil gleam in his eye...
Unfortunately for Sam, he discovers something about Dean and Cas. | 13.7K words | Last chapter is really NSFW and is rated RED |


5. Chapter 4


Chapter 4


The next 13 hours are boring.

And a little awkward.

There's not much else to do but watch TV. It takes some maneuvering of Sam's Godzilla-sized body and limbs to get comfortable on the bed so they can watch TV. Dean tries to talk Cas out of his habitual plaster-himself-to-Dean's-side-whenever-possible thing but with no success whatsoever. Cas just stares him down, flopping down next to him and scootching closer with a challenging look in his eye.

Dean knows he can't really argue against it; the main reason he'd usually say 'no' would be so Sam wouldn't walk in on them. Sam knows now and he's got no damn good reason to wriggle away. Apparently, him feeling completely chick-a-fied by being caught out snuggling (and enjoying it) by his moose of a brother no longer concerns Cas. And Cas has already said he doesn't care about which body he's fondling (which, he's still getting over that little nugget of information, honestly).

He settles down with a heavy put-upon sigh, allowing Cas to manhandle him into position. It takes a bit more maneuvering than usual as he adjusts to Sam's gigantor limbs though, but Cas is determined. He keeps the contented sigh to be pressed up again Cas' solid warmth to himself; he really can't handle two 'told you so' looks because he knows Sam and Cas will both give him the same damn look if they catch him enjoying himself.

"Sammy," Dean mutters, kicking at Sam's leg. His brother grunts in acknowledgement, blindly lashing out and nearly catching him in the face with his hand. "Go get food."

Sam's face creases up with annoyance and he turns his head to look at Dean, ready to argue. At the very least, they should freakin' shoot for it. But he snaps his mouth closed when he looks at Dean and takes in just how cozy his brother looks. He's using Cas like an angel-sized body pillow. Cas is propped up against the headboard, in a way that would be awkward for any mortal with a spine, a hand in Dean's hair and his eyes closed. He makes a face, mostly because it's expected, and works on getting himself out of his comfortable position on his own bed.

He steps into his shoes. He looks down, realizing he's in his shoes and they don't fit right. He rolls his eyes and toes them back off to retrieve Dean's from under the bed. He perches on the end of the bed, tying his shoes and only half-paying attention to the movie now. He's going to miss it, so his interest in it has waned. "The usual?" he asks, shrugging into the appropriate jacket.

"Yeah," Dean says with a careless shrug. He jostles Cas for his order but the angel just goes back to rubbing his scalp and the back of his neck and he nearly purrs, a warm sense of happy pleasure shooting down his body. "Don't forget the pie, Sammy!" he hollers just as his brother disappears out the door. He knows Sam heard him because he hears his brother scoff and mutter something under his breath before shuffling out of earshot. He untangles himself from Cas, missing the warmth almost immediately. He props himself up on his elbow, looking at Cas for a moment.

Castiel feels Dean's gaze on him but gives his Hunter a chance to gather his thoughts. He's learned keeping quiet tends to loosen Dean's tongue the easiest. When there's something on his mind, Dean can't handle the quiet very well these days. A hand strokes up his chest and he slowly opens his eyes, smiling warmly. He places his hand on top of Dean's, only absently noting the size difference. It doesn't discourage Dean from sliding his hand out from under his and back across his chest, though. "Do not encourage me, Dean."

"I am irresistible," Dean agrees absently but still smirking, his gaze lowering to watch Cas' nipple peak as he palms it through white cotton. With Sam's man-paws. Ugh. He jerks his hand away, annoyed he'd momentarily forgotten that tiny detail. He goes back to Cas-watching, content to look his fill since his angel's eyes have slipped closed again. He idly strokes along Cas' tie, playing with the end and letting the silky strip of material slide through his fingers. "How long can you stay?" he asks quietly.

Castiel opens his eyes again, cupping Dean's neck, regardless of it being Sam's at the moment. "I have no immediate plans."

"Yeah?" Dean asks, smiling. He's smiling like a big ass dork, he can tell because his cheeks are aching with it. But Cas is staying, for an indefinite length of time. He's rudely reminded of being in Sam, again, when he goes to kiss Cas and hair falls into his mouth and eyes. What the hell, man. That shit has to be annoying. Maybe that's why Sam didn't get laid all that often. He snickers to himself and flops back down to resume his previous spot on Cas.

He eyes the angel's hand laying splayed out on his chest and slowly lets his hand slide up Cas' thigh and stomach to slot their fingers together. Sam isn't here, so no one has to know they're holding hands. He settles back, not even caring they're watching predictable re-runs of CSI. Thankfully, he hears Baby's engine in time and untangles himself from Cas before Sam busts in on their happy-couple moment. Moments later, Sam eases into the room, headed right for the dinky table, dropping two paper bags onto it.

Dean hops up, rubbing his hands together, practically drooling at the smell of grease, beacon-y meat and cheese coming from the bag. Out of habit, Dean hoards the burgers (giving Cas one with a wink that makes the angel blush like usual) while Sam grabs his salad from the other bag and they settle down to their respective meals.

He's nearly done his second burger when he pauses, burger half-way to his mouth as he stares across the table in horror.


Sam startles, dropping his loaded fork with a hoarse shout of surprise. He clutches at his chest, the outburst completely unexpected and honestly scaring the shit out him. He looks around but there's nothing wrong that he can see, especially since Dean or Cas haven't moved from their seats to deal with a threat. He glares at Dean, fishing his fork out of his salad. "What?"

"You- You're-" Dean sputters, fingers going lax and dropping his burger onto the grease mottled foil. "You're feeding me salad," he chokes out, pointing at Sam accusingly and feeling horrified. And a little violated. He ignores the fact that Sam and Cas both look at him like he's crazy.

"Dean," Sam sighs, rolling his eyes, and going back to his salad. "One day of green things won't kill you."

Dean scoffs and resists the urge to slap the fork out of Sam's hand before he can shovel more green shit into his body. "It might."

"Do you hear me throwing an epic bitch fit because you're scarfing down two bacon cheeseburgers. And a milkshake. And freakin' fries?" Sam demands, propping his elbow on the table and leaning forward as he glares Dean down. Sure, he's sharing some of it with Cas - but still.

Dean eyes Sam's super-mega-bitch-face twisting up his features before glancing down at his mostly eaten second burger. He scowls. Okay, so Sam has a point... And he even remembered to get pie this time. He kinda feels like a dick now... He softly huffs out a breath, looking up at Sam sheepishly as he rubs at the back of his neck. "Sorry, Sammy."

Sam considers flipping Dean off for a moment but he doesn't. He actually got a 'sorry' out of his brother, so he just nods in acceptance and goes back to his salad. And if he exaggerates his enjoyment of the leafy greens a little, Dean doesn't say a freakin' word about it.

Going to bed later that night is awkward as fuck.

Cas strips down until he's bare-assed and starts folding his clothes, as is his usual habit when sleeping with Dean. Dean nearly smiles at the memory of the first time Cas crawled into bed next to him, fully dressed. He stares appreciatively as Cas' ass, slowly licking his bottom lip as he watches the lithe thighs shift and muscled butt cheeks flex and bounce with every move Cas makes. Cas has an awesome ass. His fingers twitch with the urge to grab and pinch.

Then he remembers... He's wearing Sam. And there's no way he's touching Cas' awesome ass with Sam-hands.

He also remembers Sam is in the room with them. He turns his head, scowl immediately on his face when he catches Sam staring. "Hey!"

"Huh?" Sam blinks a few times, trying to process the fact that there's a very naked angel, calmly folding his tie and tucking it neatly into his pants pocket, feet away from him. He registers Dean's glare and feels his face heat up. He hadn't meant to look, but he hadn't expected Cas to just drop in and strip, either. Excuse him for being stunned stupid at the naked angel. "I- Sorry," he mumbles, averting his eyes just before Cas can turn around and flash him an NC-17 rated, full frontal view. He can see Cas looking between him and Dean in his periphery and he prays Cas is moments away from stepping into pajamas, or at lease a fresh pair of underwear for the night.

Castiel glances between the brothers. He's already used to Dean being in Sam's body and doesn't even glance twice at the blush staining Sam's cheeks. He would like to look more thoroughly, he does so enjoy the way the pinkness highlights Dean's freckles. He steps around Dean and slides between the bed sheets, scootching over to the far side as is their habit. Dean doesn't care what side he sleeps on - just as long as he's closest to the door. He's tried to assure Dean he didn't need to do such a thing, pointing out he's quite capable of watching over them all. He had even forced the issue and made Dean sleep on the other side. Neither had slept that night and he's learned his lesson.

When Dean doesn't move to join him, he looks up at him curiously. "Dean?" He folds back the bedding on the other side of the bed and pats the mattress invitingly. He's tempted to make the face that usually has Dean tearing his clothes off and pouncing on him like an amorous animal (or an overgrown child.) But he doesn't, respecting Sam's boundaries. His brows furrow when the Winchesters share a look, twin expressions of unease on their faces. Both are standing stiffly and looking everywhere but at the two beds. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Uh," Dean mumbles, fighting the urge to fidget. He stuffs his giant Sam-hands into his jeans pockets and tries not to look at Cas. Because, dammit, he's all tucked in and ready to go. Naked. "I dunno, Cas."

Castiel's forehead creases with confusion. "Why not? Are you not tired?" he asks, checking the time. It's after midnight; unless working late on a case, they'd be in bed by now.

"Yeah," Dean says softly, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm just- C'mon, man. This is weird." Cas has the good sense to look a little bothered, but not enough to make him feel better about this whole fucked up thing. Cas just gives him that borderline-dirty, inviting look he's perfected when propped up on pillows (and gloriously naked). Who the hell can resist that? He sighs. "Okay, fine. But no hanky panky, okay?" he adds, pointing a finger at Cas to emphasize his point.

Castiel nods seriously. "I know, Dean. I'll try to control myself."

Dean is this close to snarking back at the mouthy angel when he realizes Cas is being completely serious. Thankfully, Sammy closes himself off in the bathroom muttering something about 'teeth' and he takes that as his cue to jump onto the bed, crawling up until he's hovering over Cas, caging the angel's body with his. It's a weird fit with Sam's gigantor limbs, but whatever. He's hoping to intimidate the angel but Cas just looks delighted. "Seriously, is this shit doin' something for you?" he asks quietly, adjusting his weight so he can wave a hand in the vague direction of Sam's body.

"No. Not the way you think, Dean." Castiel wriggles down into the sheets, laying on his back and getting comfortable, enjoying the warm press of Dean around him. "Even if you do happen to look like Sam at the moment..." he trails off. He purses his lips a little, looking up at Dean thoughtfully. "Sam is attractive, but it's you I'm drawn to."

Dean blinks, feeling a curious heated prickle behind his eyes. "Goddammit, Cas. You know how to sweet-talk a boy," he murmurs and chances a quick kiss. Before Cas can start manhandling him and sliding those hands all over Sam's no-no spots, he leans back up. He knows he's not completely out of reach, but Cas'll have to work for it and he can roll away.

And dammit, the fact that he's even thinking of rolling away from Cas has him slow breathing through a stab of a panicky sort of irritation. It's just all sorts of wrong and really freakin' unfair. Son of a bitching witches.

"Seriously, though. No morning fun and do not grab me in the middle of the night," Dean says lowly, mostly so Sam won't hear through the motel's thin bathroom door, giving Cas a stern look. Cas nods obediently, miming the scout's honor salute. He'd point out that Cas' wasn't a scout, but he appreciates the effort.

His angel has a habit of making good use of the many times he pops wood while he's sleeping. Mostly he doesn't give a shit; he always wake up at some point and he gets to enjoy whatever Cas is doing with his hands (or mouth.) And since Cas seems to be the only one not having problems touching Sam's dick, he figures it needs to be said. Out loud. And agreed upon.


Dean sighs softly and climbs off the bed and gets to work undressing for bed. He's gotten into the habit of naked sleeping as well because he's lost so many underwear to Cas' angel mojo or getting them stuffed between motel blankets and sheets (forgotten and left there when they leave.) He keeps Sammy's old man boxers on, though, and slides in next to Cas. The angel turns his head and considers him for a few moments.

"Can I—?" Castiel scoots closer. Dean doesn't protest so he continues to work his way over, pressing against Dean's side and settling into his customary spot. Sam is just as warm as Dean and he sighs softly as the body-heat seeps into his own. He carefully shifts until he's able to wrap an arm around Dean's waist, his leg bending just enough to be comfortable but not enough to have his groin touching Dean. "Is this alright?" he asks in a whisper.

He can understand Dean's reluctance to have sex, to be intimate while their bodies are switched, but he hopes Dean isn't going to refuse the simple pleasure of sleeping close together. He likes to 'cuddle' and he knows Dean does as well, even if he doesn't admit it aloud. He's become accustomed to going into a meditative state, Dean's reassuring presence beside him, warm and solid.

"Yeah," Dean says softly, gathering Cas closer. He doesn't want to say no, Sam-body or not, because he tends to sleep better with Cas nearby. It isn't as weird since both of them aren't naked. He feels Cas exhale in his usual quiet Lamaze-like pattern he does just before he goes to 'sleep' and he subtly snuggles in closer, nuzzling Cas' temple and extending his lips out into a sort-of kiss.

By the time Sam comes out, Dean is dead to the world, snoring softly with his face smooshed in Cas' hair. And he knows Cas is pretty much out for the count for the next 5 hours. He sorta hates that Cas always had to wait for him to fall asleep before he joined Dean on the nights he was able to (and he believed Cas' adamant promise that they only cuddled and did not engage in 'carnal pleasures' while he was in the room, asleep.) He takes a moment to watch them. It's kinda sweet, even if it is a little awkward.

Normally he wouldn't care to see his brother cuddling (because he so totally is, even if he won't use the word) up to an angel. Nope. But that's his body pressed all up on Cas' and it's still kinda weird. He crawls into his own bed, turns on his side so his back is to Dean and Cas, and is out before he even realizes he's fallen asleep.

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