smalltrolven (smalltrolven) wrote,

Rankle & Gall - Part 5 of 7

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“Yeah, still clean,” Dean reassures him, momentarily flashing with sadness on how Sam has to ask, because not all of their separation is clear in his mind. “No one but you, Sam.”

“Then no, just want you,” Sam answers, rolling Dean so that he’s on his back, and Sam straddling his chest. “C’mon, get me ready.”

Dean looks up and up and up at his brother looming above him, from his cock jutting out, up past his hard and tight abs, his sculpted chest, massive shoulders, and that face, - the way he’s looking at Dean, examining every nuance of expression, memorizing every detail. Dean smiles up at him and leans up to kiss the head of his cock. While he’s up there, Sam puts a couple pillows behind his head so he can stay there. Dean takes a cue from how Sam was blowing him and suckles just the end of Sam’s cock while he gets some lube on his fingers, swirling it around his entrance, slowly pushing through with one finger, never breaking eye contact or letting go with his lips either, already feeling so connected to Sam at these points.

Sam’s face is a summer lightning storm, emotion and power rolling through it, his eyes flashing different colors as he moves, starts to sink onto Dean’s fingers. Dean twists and scissors inside of Sam, pulling him apart, stretching him, making him wet as deep inside as he can reach. He curls his fingers and grazes Sam’s prostate.

Sam gasps, “Not yet, please Dean, want you in me.”  Dean nods and backs his fingers out. He pulls gently on Sam’s balls, running his hands up and down Sam’s ass, feeling the powerful muscles clench and release. He’s waiting for Sam to take the lead, sensing that he needs to run this show, their first time, taking back the autonomy of his body. Using it how he wants, only for their pleasure now.

Sam knees his way down the outside of Dean’s body, until he’s hovering over the top of Dean’s thighs, lining himself with Dean’s cock. He puts just the tip inside himself, clenching it with his rim, gripping it so hard Dean gasps. Slowly he clenches and releases, moving down to take an inch at time in, settling himself down until his ass is seated in Dean’s lap. His eyes have been holding Dean’s this whole time, watching his brother’s reactions to the hard way he’s taking him inside. “I’ve got you now,” Sam says.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Not letting go this time,” Sam pants, as his movements increase, little circles and undulations, moving and teasing both of them.  Dean’s breathing harder now too, restraining himself from thrusting up into Sam, - he’s still waiting for a sign from him that it’s what he wants.

“Good, no more of that, ever,” Dean answers, licking his lips in invitation.  Sam’s eyes widen at the sight of that tongue and he leans forward slowly, still gripping Dean so tightly, so deep inside, until their lips finally meet, and their tongues intertwine. The motion of his hips speed up. Dean’s hands hold onto the back of Sam’s head, holding him there for a longer kiss, but Sam shakes them off.

“Let me,” Sam says, putting Dean’s hands on the outside of Sam’s hips, patting them so he’ll get the message to stay. Dean crinkles his eyebrows in confusion, looking up at Sam riding him, seeing a lost look in his eyes as he speeds up. “Sammy, can I?”

“Not yet, almost, Dean,” Sam answers. “You’re doing so good holding onto me.”

Sam’s hips start to move in a figure eight where he presses down harder in the center, and Dean’s groans increase. He’s not even moving, he’s just being ridden; Sam’s using him for his pleasure, but it feels incredible, like he’s hooked up to a Tesla coil, energy and power sparking off of where they’re joined with every damn swivel of Sam’s hips. His brother’s face is so wild, so Sam at his most primal. All of his brother’s hurt and anger and sorrow is pouring off of him in sheets, he’s using all of that to power their coupling into something else. He’s transforming it, an alchemy of emotion and bodies, and Dean doesn’t know where he is anymore, in the realm of Sam. All he knows is that he’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Now, Dean, please, hurry,” Sam finally begs, his hands pushing down onto Dean’s chest. “C’mon, with me.” Dean plants his feet, bends his knees, and pumps up into his brother, hard and fast, the weight of him, the heft and torque, all of it combining to push the pressure of their release towards the brink.

“With me, Dean,” Sam demands. Dean’s hands tighten on Sam’s hips to communicate that he’s there, he’s right there with him. And then they are, both of them, completely in-sync, releasing at the same time as so rarely ever happens. Dean doesn’t know where he ends and Sam begins, and he doesn’t care - he wants it to always be like this, forever and ever amen.

“Yeah, I want that too,” Sam says.  Dean swallows hard in sudden embarrassment; he didn’t realize he’d said that out loud, but he gets over it quickly when Sam sags down over him to bring their lips together.

“Not bad for a last first-time,” Dean says, a little awed at the whole shebang.

“Thanks for uh, listening to what I wanted,” Sam says.

“Always, Sammy, you just gotta speak up,” Dean answers.

“Glad we’re back in our bed,” Sam mumbles into the side of Dean’s neck.  Dean can barely breathe because Sam’s gone completely limp on top of him. He finally feels himself soft enough to pull out, which gets Sam to roll off to the side.

“You planned something like this happening, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted to get back here so fast,” Dean asks, as he stumbles up out of the bed in search of something to wipe them up with, wetting a discarded t-shirt with water from his sink.

Sam mutters into the pillow, “I didn’t know it would be exactly like that, but yeah, I knew it was gonna be intense.”

“Intense is the word for it, you were a wild man riding me like that,” Dean says in admiration as he cleans his brother up with Sam’s discarded t-shirt. Sam doesn’t respond, he’s out cold. Dean chuckles a little as he pulls the blanket up and over Sam’s legs, covering him up. “Night, Sammy,” he whispers, carding his fingers through Sam’s beautifully messed up sex hair. He switches off the lamp and gets in on his side of the bed. Oh thank god, there’s a his side of the bed again. And that’s the last thought he has for a while, the long drive and the last-ever reunion sex have finally done him in. The Mark is not invincible against the power of a Sam-fueled event like that.

A couple weeks later, Sam’s out for a late afternoon run, and Dean hears a strange, yet slightly familiar sound, followed by light footsteps somewhere upstairs. He looks up from the library table, because it’s not Sam’s returning footsteps by the sound of them, and is shocked at who he sees leaning over the banister. “You’re here! How can you be here?”

“I brought the key with me, remember?” Charlie yells, red hair flying behind her as she hurries down the stairs to give Dean a big hug.

“Oh yeah. Well, hey, how’s Oz?” asks Dean, holding her at arm’s length so he can get a look at her, not able to stop the goofy, proud smile he knows is plastered on his face..

Charlie hugs him again when she sees that smile, then lets him go, stepping back to walk over to riffle through the papers covering the table.  “Oz is pretty great, it’s better than the books, not as colorful as the movies. Dorothy said to say ‘Hey’.”

Dean slings an arm over her shoulders and pulls her away from the table, not wanting to get into a whole discussion on the reasons for the recent research project. He steers her over to their sitting area. “So, you coming back for good, or just for a visit?”

“Well, I was missing you guys, and I thought you probably were wondering if I was alright or not. I had the chance to come back, Dorothy had a big state-dinner thing she had to go to. So here I am, but yeah, just a visit.”

“So you really are happy there then?” Dean asks.

Charlie stretches a little in her chair and settles back. “Yeah. It’s not what I expected. In some ways, it’s probably even better.”

“And you’re, uh, with Dorothy?” Dean asks, a little hesitantly, feeling like he’s got to play the older brother role.

“Yes, that a problem?” Charlie asks.

“No, of course not, it was just a little undefined when y’all left,” Dean says, hoping that explanation works well enough to satisfy her.

“I didn’t think it would be given your situation with Sam and all,” Charlie says.

“What?” Dean asks, feeling himself begin to blush bright red, he tries to stare her down.

Charlie rolls her eyes and flaps a hand at him. “Dean, I’ve read the books, I know.”

“But it’s not in the books. I read them after you left. Chuck kept it out,” Dean protests, feeling like he’s had his legs cut out from underneath him.

“It was there, believe me. Plus I know you guys in person. It doesn’t take a genius, and I am one anyways. So your secret is safe with me. No judging here,” Charlie says, holding up both hands in the surrender signal.

“Oh, okay. No judging here either. Glad you’re happy, even though I’m not sure she’s good enough for you,” Dean says begrudgingly, and inside he’s feeling great that she’s not going to give him a hard time about him and Sam.

“Such a big brother,” Charlie says, evidently enjoying teasing him, given the wide grin on her face.

“Shut up, squirt. Seems like you need one. Hey, sounds like Sam is making his entrance. I’m gonna fix you a welcome back dinner. What’ve you missed most food-wise?” Dean asks.

“Oh god, anything Italian would be great,” Charlie answers.

“Okay, give me a little bit, I’ll make a quick trip to the store.  Heya, Sammy, look who’s here!” Dean hollers up the staircase.

Sam pops his head over and his whole face changes when he sees their visitor. “No way, Charlie! I’d come hug you, but I’m all sweaty from running.”

“Still keeping in shape, I see,” Charlie says to Dean as Sam descends the stairs.

“Yep, boy’s gotta do a few miles a day at least otherwise he gets antsy, drives me freakin’ nuts. I’m headin’ out for dinner supplies, you need anything, Sam?” Dean asks, as he’s scooping up his car keys and wallet off the table.

“Yeah, we finished the beer last night, so get some more,” Sam says.

“When are we ever not out of beer, it’s like on the permanent shopping list at this point. Not that I’m complaining about actually having a permanent anything at this point in our lives. Bye, see you in an hour or so,” Dean squeezes Sam’s bicep as he goes past, and Sam’s hands reach up to touch Dean’s hand briefly.  Charlie smiles to herself witnessing this small interaction between the brothers. She waves goodbye to Dean.

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower, be right back in ten, make yourself at home, you know where everything is,” Sam says, gesturing around the room.

“’kay, I’ll just poke around in all your private and personal stuff,” Charlie jokes.

“Hey, as long as I don’t catch you, knock yourself out,” Sam laughs, heading downstairs to the shower room.

Charlie gets herself a bottle of Coke out of the fridge, along with the last of a bag of potato chips, both of which are definitely lacking in Oz. She looks at the research spread out on the big tables and at the level of whiskey in the bottles on the bar. Not much has changed in the time that she’s been gone. She goes over her internal checklist about what she’s here to accomplish, reminding herself about the reason she’s even back in this place.

Sam comes back and joins her on the couch, pushing back his wet hair out of his eyes. “So what’s been going on? Tell me about Oz and everything.”

“So, uh, Sam, there was a reason I came to see you guys just now. It wasn’t just a random visit. I’ve got some stuff I need to talk to you about before Dean gets back.”

Sam’s eyebrows draw together, making a deep U in his forehead, “Okay? Go ahead, I guess.”

“Well, one of the witches over there in Oz was using a crystal ball thing to see if we could check on you guys. I was missing you and I wondered if it would even be able to see anything here in this world. And it kinda worked better than she meant it to.  It put her into this trance thing, and basically she was able to tell me what’s happened, just like reading one of Chuck’s books. So I’m all caught up on you guys and what you’ve been up to,” Charlie says.

“Alright, so you know about the angel thing and how he saved your life then,” Sam says.

“Yeah, and more importantly, the Mark of Cain thing. Sam, she wasn’t able to just tell me about the past, she told me the future too. And that’s why I’m here. We have to help Dean get rid of the Mark. It’s going to kill both of you otherwise,” Charlie says, feeling the urgency of her mission increase as she encounters Sam’s disbelief.

“I don’t think so, Charlie, Dean’s got it under control,” Sam says.

“For now he does. But it all goes downhill soon after he gets ahold of the First Blade.  So here is what she said to do, - I wrote it all down so I wouldn’t screw it up.”  Charlie digs around in her big leather pouch and pulls out a fancy-looking scroll of parchment. “Yeah, I know, very Hermione. Remind me to take back some freakin’ notebooks.”

Sam grins at her Harry Potter reference and takes the scroll and begins reading.  His face goes darker and more concerned as he continues reading. He blows out a big breath when she finishes up. “I have how long to do all this?”

“She said it was maybe a month away. Times weird though between here and there. So I guess, don’t put it off.”

“I won’t. I’m pretty sure we have most of this already.”

“I figured it wouldn’t be too hard for you to figure out.”

“Thanks, Charlie. For coming back here to tell me. Giving me a heads up like this will hopefully make all the difference.”

“That’s the idea! I want to have somewhere to come back to, you know, just in case. Eventually Dorothy’s gotta get sick of me.”

“Why would she?” Sam asks.

“Well, I think it probably gets old dealing with someone that’s such a stranger to every aspect of your culture and world. I just feel like I’m a burden a lot of the time.”

“But she loves you right?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I mean she says she does,” Charlie says.

“Well, in my experience, you need to handle the feeling like a burden thing yourself somehow. Otherwise it’ll get in the way, even if she loves you.”

“Yeah, I take it you’re speaking from experience. You and Dean back together then?” Charlie asks.

“Uh huh, just recently actually. And that’s all I’m saying on that. But just, take my advice and get yourself sorted out so she has someone to love. And love her back.”

“Got it. So Dean’s actually cooking for real now? Lucky you,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, he is, and he’s actually getting really good at it,” Sam answers.

“I am? Thanks Sammy,” Dean says, coming up behind him silently and clapping him on the shoulders.  Sam looks up at him in surprise. Dean leans down and presses a quick kiss to his lips upside down.

“Aww, you two,” Charlie coos at them, feeling happier and more hopeful for these two than she has in quite a while.

“Shut up, little sister, or no lasagna for you,” Dean says, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

“You know how to make lasagna?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, it’s pretty easy, all in the timing, right, Sam?”

“Yes, as in don’t forget to set a timer,” Sam says, holding back a laugh.

“Oh no, did we have a problem?” Charlie asks.

“There was one disaster, but it was because we were talking. So it was worth it, found a good restaurant outta the deal. But I proved myself capable the second time around.”

“Yes you did. And it was better than that restaurant, just like I said it would be.”

“You guys are too much,” Charlie says, shaking her head at how ridiculously cute these two are now that she’s finally told them that she knows their whole story.

When Dean comes into the bedroom the night after they finally make it back from Magnus’ place, he finds Sam sitting on their bed holding a pair of demon-proof handcuffs. “I think we need to use these tonight,” Sam says.

“Sammy’s ready to get his kink on, huh?” Dean asks, leaning up against the door frame.

“No, it’s not that. Well, not all that.  I’m…uh, starting to feel unsafe,” Sam admits.

“What? With me?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, you know how you’re getting stronger?” Sam asks.

“Uh huh, sure,” Dean says, wondering what he’s missed while the haze of the Mark has taken over. It hasn’t happened too many times when it’s just him and Sam, but just enough to notice.

“Well, it’s starting to scare me, because of how your personality is changing. Ever since you used that blade thing, you’re not always 100% you.”

“Do you just not want to have sex or something?” Dean asks, the words coming out sharper than he meant them to, as if something’s adding itself onto his own voice.

“No, I don’t want to stop. Not when we’re just getting ourselves back together, you know? But I also know that you wouldn’t ever want to hurt me, right? And it seems like a possibility,” Sam says.

Dean crosses the room and stands in front of Sam, in his personal space. He holds his wrists together out towards Sam. “So you wanna cuff me so I can’t get too crazy on you? I don’t have a problem with that.”

Sam looks up at Dean for a long moment and then down at Dean’s hands held in front of him. “You sure?”

"Sam, do whatever. I’d rather have you even if I’m cuffed. As long as I’m getting off, I don’t really care,” Dean says, shrugging dramatically, and shoving his hands in his pockets. The building desire he’d felt is quickly turning into irritation.

“Oh, well when you put it like that,” Sam huffs.

“I was kidding,” Dean says, sitting down next to Sam on the bed and elbowing him in the ribs.

Sam looks over at him at the surprise contact on his ribs. “Didn’t sound like it to me.”

“Well, who knows, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if I’m talking to you, or the Mark You,” Sam says.

“Am I really that different?” Dean asks, because he’s pretty sure he’s still the same Dean he’s always been.

“Yeah, you’re starting to be. It’s like you’re on another frequency or something. I barely got you to stop when we were at Magnus’ place yesterday.”

Dean’s eyes go a little hazy recalling how it felt in that place; how he felt so completely alive holding the blade in his hand, like it was always meant to be there, how everything and everyone else had faded in importance, even Sam. Especially Sam. He stumbles a little on his words, not sure how to convey it without scaring Sam too much. “It was like you were in another room, and I could barely hear you yelling at me.”

“But I was right there, you were holding that knife, and I was tied up right in front of you. For a second I thought,” Sam cuts himself off. He obviously doesn’t want to say the words out loud, as if it’ll make it worse, or even more true for both of them.

“Thought what? I was gonna cut your head off too? Give me some credit, wouldja.”

“Well, that’s what it felt like, you were unreachable. Not… there. Even Crowley noticed,” Sam says.

“He did?” Dean asks, because that part of the festivities is definitely a little hazy in his memory.

“Yeah. So if we’re doing anything, I just want to take the precaution of the cuffs. And like you said, we can maybe get a little kinky about it while we’re at it. As long as the Mark doesn’t mess us up too much,” Sam says.

“How do you mean?” Dean asks.

“Well, it makes you really cold and detached. Amoral.”

“Like Cain,” Dean says.

Sam nods. “I guess.”

“I don’t know if we should take the risk, Sam. I mean, I want you, I always do. But I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you somehow because of this thing, especially while we were having sex.”

“Thus the cuffs. It’ll be fine, Dean, wanna try ‘em now?” Sam asks, dangling them from one finger.

“Uh, if you’re sure… I wouldn’t say no. Where? Here or the dungeon?” Dean asks, starting to get excited about the idea.

“The dungeon? No thanks, too cold, here will work. The bed’s strong enough, don’t you think?”

They take their clothes off, piece by piece, until they’re both naked, standing in the center of their bedroom. The cuffs lay there shining on the bed, open, and innocent of purpose. Sam picks them up and fastens one around Dean’s wrist, pulls him towards the bed and pushes him down onto it. Dean grins up at him and wiggles himself into place. Sam threads the empty cuff through the headboard, and then fastens it onto Dean’s other wrist. “I hope it doesn’t bruise you too much,” Sam says, looking concerned.

“I’m more worried about my shoulders,” Dean answers, “so get to gettin’ already.”

“Next time, we should do some foreplay before putting on the cuffs, I’m gonna have to do all the work,” Sam grumbles.

“Tell you what, how about if I direct you? Tell you what to do?” Dean asks.

“Dean Winchester, toppiest top to ever top. I swear.”

“Stop it, Sam. I’m just trying to balance this out somehow. Forget it, un-cuff me,” Dean demands, pulling at the cuffs and rattling them against the headboard.

“No. You’re right. Go ahead, start with some orders, let’s see how it goes.”

“Fine, humor me, whatever. But you’re gonna end up liking it, I know you are,” Dean says.

“Whatever. What’s first?” Sam asks.

“Kiss me,” Dean orders.

“Yes sir.”

“No, none of that sir business. Just do it.”


Sam kisses him, a quick peck on the lips.

“Sammy.” Dean rattles the handcuffs impatiently.

“Just kidding.” Sam leans back in and kisses Dean long and slow, - toe curling is a good description, but neither of them are paying attention to their toes at the moment.

“Now kiss my neck, bite me like you always do,” Dean says.  Sam obeys, moving from one side to the other, enjoying Dean’s responsive moans of pleasure.

“What next, Dean?”

“My nipples, do that thing, you know,” Dean says, trying to hide his gasps of pleasure at the feel of Sam’s lips and teeth and tongue.

“So responsive, always so good like this,” Sam says, licking first one and then the other nipple until it is as hard and erect as it can get. Turning redder with each bite, soothing with a swirl of tongue and then a gentle suckling.

“Feel me, feel how hard that makes me, Sammy,” Dean groans.

“Oh yeah, that’s always worked on you,” Sam agrees, stroking up and down Dean’s hard length. He licks his palm and goes back to stroking Dean, waiting for his next instructions.

“I’m…uh losing track here,” Dean admits.

“C’mon, if you want anything else than this, you gotta tell me,” Sam demands.

“You are a kinky fucker, aren’t you?” Dean gasps as Sam’s hand speeds up, squeezing harder and twisting at the tip of his cock.

“You know it, take advantage of it, now’s your chance,” Sam offers.

“Fine, blow me then, do your worst, then sit on my face,” Dean grits out as Sam’s hand speeds to a blur.

“Mmmm, you got it,” Sam murmurs, letting up on the fast stroking and flipping around to crouch at Dean’s side, his feet tucking in under Dean’s right shoulder. Sam leans over and holding Dean’s cock up at the perfect angle for him to sink his whole mouth down over it, takes him in hard and as deep as possible, his nose just poking into the top of Dean’s balls. Dean’s pulling at the cuffs now, Sam can hear them clinking over the constant stream of moaning filth Dean is coming out with. He speeds his sucking pulls right up until Dean is thrusting into his throat, finally releasing with a hard cut-off scream.

Sam pulls off of Dean, licking the tip of his cock and suckling the last bit of come out. Then he swings his leg over, straddling Dean backwards, backing up towards his waiting mouth. Dean’s still panting from coming so hard, but he’s so ready for this, having Sam take this pleasure from him, demanding this when he’s cuffed to the bed. The Mark rises up in him, coming up as a red fog that threatens to overwhelm him, insisting that he should be the one taking, not giving. But he pushes it down, because Sam is lowering his balls into his waiting open mouth. Dean takes them in and sucks gently, running his tongue all around Sam’s sack, especially flicking over the vein that runs up the center. Sam yelps when he feels the rumble of Dean’s laughter, the vibrations traveling up into him like he’s been waiting for this particular tone to be rung deep in his body for years. “God, Dean, that’s perfect just like that.”

Dean says, “Now your hole, give it to me.”

Sam tilts his ass back so that Dean can reach it, first just with his tongue, but then his lips and teeth. Sam can barely hold himself up, he just wants to grind into Dean’s face, wishing that Dean’s hands were free so that his fingers could be involved. Dean turns his head to the side and says, “Put your fingers in yourself, Sam, get them in there deep for me.”

Sam complies, putting in two at first and then three, pumping them in and out. Along with Dean’s tongue, it’s so good, so very good. “Can I, Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy, come for me, want it on me,” Dean demands, in this deep, commanding voice colored with the power of the Mark. He hears himself, how unmoored he sounds, and suddenly he’s glad that he’s restrained, being overwhelmed with the urge to take Sam apart in the bloodiest way possible. He nudges the top of his head into Sam’s thigh, urging him to turn himself. “C’mon Sammy, want it on my face.”

Sam turns himself around at the sound of command in Dean’s voice, so otherworldly and impossible to ignore. “Oh, oh god, Dean,” Sam cries out as he strips his cock until it all pours out of him, all over Dean’s upturned face, dripping down his lips and cheeks, his neck, even in his eyelashes.

“Clean me up now, Sam, and don’t you swallow it,” Dean demands.

Sam shivers at the command in Dean’s voice, like he’s trying to resist it. But at another wordless growl from the back of Dean’s throat, he sets to licking all of Dean clean.

“Give it back to me, kiss me like you mean it, come on,” Dean commands.

Sam raises his eyebrows in surprise at how demanding and crazy this is getting, but he complies without a word of protest, kissing Dean deeply, the taste of himself and Dean’s come mingling into the wildest flavor. They kiss for a long time, trading it back and forth, until Dean pushes it all into Sam’s mouth and breaks their kiss.

“Swallow for me now, Sammy,” he says in a growl.

Sam’s eyes go wide and dark at that possessive command, and he lifts his head up so that Dean can see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows it all.  He moves to undo the cuffs, but Dean stops him.

“Not yet, you need to wait a little while,” Dean says in a deep voice that sounds like it’s coming from very far away.

Sam nods and lays down next to Dean, holding him tightly, feeling how much tension is running through his body, like he’s in the middle of a fight. He looks over at Dean and sees the gritted teeth.  “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

“No, just let me calm down,” Dean says, sounding irritated and like he’s struggling to not start yelling.

Sam lies back, not touching Dean at all and stares at the ceiling, his body still thrumming with the effects of this kind of kinky sex they haven’t had in a very long time. He’s not sure if it’s Dean, or the way the Mark is making Dean behave, but that note of command and control, even though he was cuffed to the bed was a blazing hot turn-on.  He can see that this is going to be harder and harder to say no to. And Dean has always been very persuasive, even without the Mark.

After about a half hour of silence, where Sam has almost drifted off, Dean says, “You can undo me now.”

Sam sits up and looks at Dean, who won’t meet his eyes from either embarrassment or an attempt to hide something. “Dean, look at me,” Sam says, “I need to see you.”

Dean flicks his eyes back to Sam, staring intensely with something verging on anger, but there’s restraint there too. “It’s me, Sammy, all me.”

Sam swallows a little nervously, and then gets the key off the nightstand, he reaches over to undo the cuffs, and brings Dean’s hands down, rubbing at the red chafed skin on his wrists. “Did they hurt you?”

“Naw, not much. ‘sides, I’m invincible now, right? You’re okay, though?” Dean asks, sounding solicitous and a little worried.

“Why are you asking? You were there. I’m more than okay, it was pretty damn amazing.”

“Oh, uh… good,” Dean mumbles, his words trailing off softly.

“Hold on, do you not remember it or something?” Sam asks, now he sounds a little worried.

Dean’s first impulse is to lie, of course it is, that’s what they do, how they handle each other and their closeness. But he remembers his recent promise to share with Sam everything that happens with the Mark. “I…uh, well I guess I don’t remember exactly what happened after you finished blowing me. I kinda went away, and came back to myself when I was trying to calm down enough to get you to take the cuffs off of me.”

“Want me to fill you in on what you missed?” Sam asks.

“Was it hot?” Dean asks instead of answering.

“Beyond hot.”

“Tell me later, I wanna know, but I need to sleep now. Something about these spells where the Mark takes over really wipes me out,” Dean says.

“Your whole body was tensed up, like you were in the middle of a big fight, I couldn’t even touch you, it was like you’d come apart into pieces, I can see why you’d be tired. You were fighting it off, to keep it from taking you over,” Sam says.

“Yeah, probably, sleeping now,” Dean mumbles, eyes drifting shut, hands unclenching and stilling on Sam’s shoulders.

Tags: nc-17, rankle & gall, reunion, sam/dean, spn-j2-bigbang, wincest
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