Work Text:
Feel the Love
FEEL THE LOVE
By Shorts
Dean woke, the memory of Sam climbing into bed with him and what had transpired earlier that morning came rushing back. A small smile graced his lips and when he opened his eyes he saw . . . nothing. He froze, ears straining for any sound to explain the predicament he found himself in. With a subtle move, he discovered his wrists had also been bound over his head.
His mind raced to figure out what happened. He prided himself with the fact he would wake if anyone tried to break into the room, but he had failed. Immediately his thoughts turned to Sam, afraid of what might have happened to him while he was blissfully unaware. A faint sound of someone walking across the carpet caused him to tense and the feel of the mattress dipping next to him made him flinch involuntarily.
"Hey, you're awake," said Sam.
"Sam? What the hell is going on?" Dean yanked hard against his bonds, trying to quell the beginning of a panic. Any hope that help would materialize in the form of his brother vanished. If something had control of Sam, his chances of getting free just dropped to about zero.
"Shhh. It's okay," said Sam, placing a comforting hand on Dean's chest. "You're safe, Dean. Just trust me."
"Trust you?" Dean's voice rose in pitch. "You've hog tied me and blind folded me!"
"I didn't hog tie you," said Sam, "your legs aren't bound, are they?"
"This is no time for technicalities," snapped Dean, straining to free his wrists. "Will you stop with the games and cut me loose?"
"Dean, stop!" said Sam, reaching out to hold Dean's arms still. "You're going to hurt yourself."
Freeing himself was out of the question, so Dean decided to try reason instead. "Sam, what's going on? Did I piss you off with that cuddling remark, or something? Whatever it is, we can discuss it, okay?"
"Dean," chuckled Sam. "It's nothing like that. I wanted to do something for you, and you did sort of give me permission."
"Permission?!" Dean practically shouted, any thought of reasoning with Sam went the way of the wind. "Sam, I seriously think I'd remember giving you permission to tie me up!" He resumed his desperate attempt to free himself.
"Well, not that precisely, but the general meaning was there," defended Sam, trying to calm his brother down. The depth of Dean's objection started to hit him. "Dean! Hold still!"
"How do I even know it's really you, Sam?" asked Dean, his voice strained with the edge of panic. He tried to shift his blindfold by rubbing the side of his head against his upper arm.
"Damn it," muttered Sam, to himself. He grabbed the edge of the silk scarf he had used to blindfold Dean and slipped it off. He should have realized taking away Dean's ability to see might have been a bit too much.
Dean blinked against the sudden brightness of the room and with large, wide eyes stared at Sam.
"See? It's just me," said Sam, with a small, tentative smile. The fact Dean didn't seem to be reassured by that knowledge, bothered him and he reached out once more to try and calm him.
Dean tried to push himself further into the mattress and away from Sam's approaching hand. He still wasn't convinced Sam wasn't being controlled in some way.
Sam withdrew his hand and sighed. "This isn't exactly how I had envisioned this going."
"Oh, really?" asked Dean. "Just how did you imagine this would go?" He quickly scanned the room for any clue that might explain things, but nothing was out of place.
"Never mind," said Sam, defeat clear in his voice. "It was dumb, just something I wanted to try. I had thought it would be fun. A way to help you feel how much I love you." He reached above Dean's head to undo the knot in the silk scarf tied to the headboard. "I didn't think it all the way through. I'm sorry."
Dean opened his mouth to snap another caustic comment, then snapped it shut. Earlier today, Sam had given him what he himself had been unable to ask for, and this was something Sam obviously needed. "Wait."
Sam shook his head, and continued to working out the knot. "It's okay, Dean. I went a little too far with the blindfold, I should have known better."
"Sammy, will you just stop for a moment?" ordered Dean. He had never willingly allowed himself to be tied, but then, this wasn't normal circumstances. He refused to delve into the definition of normal when it came to him and Sam.
Sam sat back and waited.
"Just give me a moment," said Dean, searching Sam's face. Sam sat there, his gaze averted. It was obvious he was waiting for a dressing down of royal proportions for fucking up.
"Discussing this with me first might have been the smarter way to approach this," began Dean, as a clearer understanding started to unfold.
"You're right . . . ," started Sam.
"Let me finish," interrupted Dean. "It would have allowed me to be part of this little scenario, instead of jumping to the wrong conclusion."
Sam blew out a sigh, starting to believe he might just live through this.
"Besides, I never knew you had a kinky side to you," grinned Dean. "You certainly are full of surprises, Sammy."
"This isn't kinky," began Sam, then stopped.
Dean merely raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it didn't start out that way," conceded Sam.
"Uh huh." Dean looked meaningfully at his bound wrists.
"Okay, it's kinky," admitted Sam. "But there is a reason underneath it all."
"There usually is," said Dean.
"No really," continued Sam. "You're always seeing to what I need first, putting yourself second. This way I'm not distracted by you and I can concentrate on you."
"Sam, you know that's not true," argued Dean, but his tone didn't hold much conviction to the statement.
"Well, it is to me," said Sam. "And this is my chance to put you first."
"Bro, you don't have to tie me up to let you have first go, you know that." Dean said, feeling slightly bad at not having anticipated that Sam may need to feel in control of how things went down between them at times.
"There you go again," said Sam. "Putting what I want and need before your own."
"Help me out here, Sam," pleaded Dean. "It seems I can't win without losing on this."
"It's not a matter of winning or losing," explained Sam. "It's letting me be there for you."
"You are here for me," said Dean. "Every step of the way, man."
"Then let me show you," urged Sam.
"Whatever you say, Sam," yielded Dean, relaxing back on the bed.
Sam hesitated, "You said that before."
"And I mean it," assured Dean.
An honest smile brightened Sam's face. "Just relax and feel, okay?"
"I can do that," grinned Dean, settling himself more comfortably.
"Good." Sam leaned forward and kissed him, taking his time to express everything he was feeling.
Dean poured his soul into the kiss, and when he tried to embrace Sam and roll them both over, he was stopped short by his bonds.
Sam pulled back and grinned. "You just can't help it, can you? You were going to take control, weren't you?"
Dean opened his mouth to protest, then sighed. "What can I say? You bring it out of me."
"Nice to know, but it's my turn." Sam stood and slipped out of the boxers he had been wearing, then moved on top of Dean's prone body. Dean shifted his legs so he could settle between them.
"Okay?" asked Sam, feeling Dean's growing response against his own hardening desire.
"Never better," answered Dean, his breath quickening.
Sam picked up the discarded blindfold and dipped his head down to whisper in Dean's ear. "Just listen and feel."
Dean braced himself, thinking Sam was going to once again take away his sight. Instead, he felt the soft caress of the silk slide across his face and down his neck. The sensation was followed by equally soft kisses and together they made a trail down his chest and sides. He started to squirm when the silk and Sam's mouth traveled down his stomach, then encircled his straining need. A groan of disappointment escaped him when the tantalizing sensation released him and moved to his thighs.
The heady feeling that he was causing Dean to moan was almost his own undoing. Reaching down with his other hand, Sam grabbed himself and squeezed, delaying his own release. He concentrated on moving back up Dean's body, once more engulfing Dean's manhood in silk and his mouth.
Dean clenched his teeth together as Sam once again stopped just short of him coming, and continued up his body until he captured his lips with his own. "Please, Sam . . . "
Sam noted the almost imploring tone and a sharp pain hit his heart. His objective was to put Dean first in his pleasure, not tease him to the point of having to plead for what he needed. "You got it." He wrapped the silk scarf around Dean's manhood and started to slide his fist up and down, increasing the speed and pressure.
The headboard protested as Dean strained against his bonds, his entire body arching into the silken glove that drove him higher and closer to release.
Sam lowered his head and used his tongue to lick across the satin head of Dean's leaking manhood. That was the catalyst that sent Dean over the edge. A low, drawn out groan filled the room as Dean came, shuddering as Sam continued to move the silk around his hand up and down.
Collapsing back on the bed, Dean drew up his legs, trying to stop the almost excruciating sensation of pleasure still fluttering around his sensitive skin. "I think I just died," he gasped, his entire body still humming with pleasure in the after glow.
"We're not finished, yet," said Sam, gently cleaning away Dean's spent seed with a damp washcloth.
"You're right," agreed Dean, noting Sam was still hard. "Come here."
"Not yet," said Sam.
"Dude, if you hadn't noticed, I just . . ."
"I think you still have another round left in you," grinned Sam, lowering his head and taking Dean's spent flesh between his lips.
"Sam . . ." gasped Dean. "You might be . . ." His voice caught as his entire body jerked in response to Sam's tongue teasing him back to hardness. "Oh, god."
"You were saying?" grinned Sam, lifting his head and admiring his handy work.
"What you do to me," gasped Dean.
Sam slid his body against Dean's until they were hip to hip and chest to chest. "Nothing you don't always do to me, just thought I'd return the favor." He sealed their lips together, pushing down with his hips and trapping their hardness together. "Ready?"
Dean nodded, unable to speak as pleasure seared through his already highly sensitive skin.
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held him tight, rocking their bodies together until they both cried out. He dropped his entire weight on Dean, gasping for air.
"Sam," grunted Dean. "Can't breathe."
Sam lifted himself up and rolled off to the side, pausing a moment to catch his breath before getting up.
"Where are you going?" asked Dean, tracking Sam's movements.
Digging into their bags, Sam brought up a knife. "You've pulled on the scarf to the point I'll never get that knot undone." He came back and cut the scarf, freeing Dean's arms, then stretched out next to him on the bed.
Dean turned on his side and pulled Sam close, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. "I think you've worn me out."
A big grin spread across Sam's face. "Glad to be of service." He wrapped an arm around Dean and hugged
"I think I just want to stay like this for a bit, then we'll go get something to eat," sighed Dean.
"I think you're starting to get into this cuddling," laughed Sam.
"Shut up," was Dean's only reply as he pressed closer to Sam.
Later, they headed back to the little diner they had ate at that morning. There were more people having an early dinner, than there had been for breakfast. Coincidentally, the same booth they sat in before was vacant.
"Back for more?" smiled Fran, setting down glasses of water and handing them menus.
"Built up an appetite today," smirked Dean, sharing a look with Sam. "Amazing how hungry you get when you're all tied up."
Fran merely smiled as Sam nearly choked on his water.
Dean's grin couldn't have been bigger, then he turned his attention back to Fran. "So, what's good?"
"Like I said before, everything." Fran waited.