Tag: Sam and Dean

But Dean taking Sam to bars because he LOVES it when Sam is drunk enough to use his considerable height and weight to his advantage to throw Dean across the nearest flat surface available, nearly ripping Dean’s jeans off in his haste to fuck Dean, doesn’t even bother to remove his own clothes. Dean loves it when Sam’s drunk, loses all those inhibitions he stubbornly holds onto when he’s sober, fucks Dean without even complaining about not wearing a condom, slamming Dean HARD against whatever Dean’s being fucked into (could be the wall, a table, a bed, Dean doesn’t really care at that point) and DAMN Dean comes so hard he sees stars, and when Sam comes deep inside him after, he always yanks Dean’s head back to growl all the possessive words he wants to scream whenever someone makes a move on or touches Dean, because Dean is fucking HIS, no one else’s, HIS to fuck and to claim until neither of them can stand the next day. And Dean soaks up and hangs onto every word.

No but every time Dean gets hurt, whether he gets punched in the face for speaking rudely, or slashed by the monster of the week, or slammed against yet another wall in an abandoned house/asylum/apartment building/whatever, Sammy will always take Dean in his arms and carefully, so careful Sammy, clean away the blood, if any, and patch Dean up as though he were made of the most delicate glass. Sam holds Dean like he’s something to be cherished, like Sam’s holding the world in his hands, and presses a kiss to each and every wound Dean receives, whispers how beautiful and how precious Dean is to him, finishing each patch-up with a kiss to Dean’s lips and a murmured “I love you, Dean.” And Dean counts his scars as little trophies, places where Sam has worshiped his body and made Dean whole again.