Not Good Sir, True

Dean Winchester has a reputation to maintain; a whole macho image wrapped up...

Well, you know something about Dean that Dean barely admits to himself in the dark hours past three a.m. and it is that the man loves it when you take control; not in the performative "yeah, climb on, sweetheart" he offers like he's doing you a favor.

No, he comes apart at the seams when you're on top of him, when your hands pin his wrists, when your weight presses him down and your hips dictate the pace.

There's something in the way his green eyes go glassy and his mouth falls open, jaw slack, like every wall he's ever built comes crumbling down brick by brick.

Because you know.. he tries to play it cool about it, like he's the one running the show even when you're riding him so hard the headboard leaves dents in the drywall.

Oh, but you see him, all of him.

The vending machine outside Room 12 of the Pinecrest Motel buzzed and hummed as you were crouched in front of it, squinting at the panel of options when Dean strolled up behind with his arms crossed and a insufferable grin.

"Whatcha doing, sweetheart?"

"Looking for condoms." Plain and to the point.

"Bold of you to assume that machine has anything worth buying." He leaned over your shoulder, reading the labels. "Glow-in-the-dark? What are we, thirteen at a sleepover?"

"They have flavored ones too." You tapped the glass. "Strawberry. Chocolate. Grape."

"You know, back in '04, I tried the glow-in-the-dark ones, it looked like I was waving a lightsaber around in bed.."

"Dean." "What? It's romantic. Star Wars is romantic!"

You looked at the machine again. Strawberry, chocolate, grape, mint, orange, vanilla, banana, bubblegum — and glow-in-the-dark.

You pressed every single button and the machine clunked, dispensing its entire stock into the tray below.

You gathered the small foil packets into your hands, a whole rainbow of flavors stuffed into your jacket pockets, and smiled to yourself.

The motel room door had barely clicked shut behind you before Dean's mouth found yours. Sam was out — gone on a solo salt-and-burn three states over, which meant the two of you had the room to yourselves for once. No careful quiet or stifling sounds into the pillows, it's just you and Dean and the whole night stretching ahead.

You kissed him back, fingers curling into the front of his flannel, tugging him closer. His lips were everything you loved; soft but insistent, slightly chapped from the dry air, tasting faintly of the cheap diner coffee he'd been nursing all evening.

By the time you made it to the bed, clothes were gone— shed between the entrance and the mattress in a trail.

His skin was warm under your hands, shoulders flexing as he pushed you to the edge of the bed, but you pushed back, flipping him onto his back with a firm hand on the chest for him to be the one laying on bed.

"My turn tonight," you murmured against his mouth.

He exhaled a laugh. "M' not complaining."

His cock is half-hard beneath you, pressed against your inner thigh, and you can feel the heat of him, the weight. You grind down once, just barely, he groans into your mouth, his fingers tightening on your hips.

"Fuck, sweets—"

"Patience," you murmur against his lips.

You kissed him again, your tongue sliding against his, and began working the way down. His jaw, the spot below his ear, the tendon in his neck, the hollow of his throat.

Lower. His collarbone. Much lower. His chest, where you dragged your lips, feeling his heartbeat kick up under your mouth.

Lower still.

You dragged your mouth down his stomach, following the trail of hair below his navel, and settled between his thighs.

His cock lay against the thigh, half-hard, and brushed your lips over it, a ghost of contact, before reaching for the nightstand.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows, watching with hazy curiosity as you pulled out the entire stash of condoms you'd bought from the vending machine.

Strawberry, chocolate, grape, mint, orange, vanilla, banana, bubblegum— all of them fanned out on the sheets like a goddamn sampler platter.

"What the hell are you doing with those?"

"Tasting flight," you said cheerfully. "Like wine tasters!"

He passed his hand over your hair and smiled. "You're out of your mind."

"And you're going to love it. Lie back."

He opens his mouth, probably to argue, but you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and squeeze, whatever he was going to say dies in a groan and drops back against the pillow.

"Aww aren't you a good guy?"

"Shut up," he mutters as his hips jerk in your grip, giving him away.

You tear open the strawberry wrapper first. The latex is pink and thin and smells faintly of artificial fruit as you roll it down his length, smoothing it over him with such deliberate slowness you think Dean might tell you to fuck off.

He's fully hard now, the condom stretched tight, and you look up at him through your lashes before leaning in.

Your lips wrap around the tip, sucking gently at first; the tongue swirls over the flavored surface, tasting the fake sweetness mixed with the warmth of his own skin beneath.

Bit by bit you take him deeper, bobbing the head, hollowing the cheeks to create that tight suction he loves. His cock throbs in your mouth, growing even more rigid as you work him with wet, slurping sounds that fill the quiet room.

"Fuck— fuck, that's—" His voice cracks, hands fisting in the sheets.

You hum around him, a low vibration, and his abs clench like someone has zapped him with a live wire.

But then you pull off, letting him feel every inch of the release, and press a kiss to the tip. His cock bobs against his stomach, the pink latex slick with your spit.

"Strawberry," you announce, licking your lips. "Solid seven out of ten! A little synthetic, but pleasant overall."

"You're reviewing them?"

"Obviouslyyy. How else are we going to make a decision for next time?"

You were already reaching for the chocolate one and rolling it down him.

This time you start with your hand, stroking him, thumb pressing over the head in a circular motion that makes his hips buck just to lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tip, the tongue flicking out to taste.

The chocolate flavor is richer, pretty believable, and take your time, licking a long stripe up the underside before swallowing him halfway.

"Jesus... keep doing that— you're amazing love.."

You did keep doing that, for a moment of course, just to pull off in the end.

Gods, right at the edge! You could feel it in the way his cock swelled, the way his thighs went rigid— and you pulled fucking off, letting him go with a wet pop.

"Chocolate," you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Eight out of ten. Creamy, good depth of flavor!"

Dean made a sound that was between groan and whine. His cock twitched, angry and flushed beneath the latex. He was close— you could see it in the way his muscles kept clenching and how he was sweating.

You peeled the condom off and reached for grape. "Already close? But we're just starting!"

The third time you roll a condom on him and lower your mouth, Dean's hands shoot out, fingers threading into your hair, gripping hard.

He tries to push your head down, hips thrusting up, and for a moment you let him— let him fuck up into your mouth, the tart grape flavor coating your tongue as you deepthroat him.

Oh, but you know he needs some manners and you pull back, grabbing his wrists, his eyes are wild, desperate, pupils blown and swallowing that green you love.

"Ah-ah," you say. "Hands to yourself."

You reach for his belt, discarded on the bed, and pull it through the loops with a sharp snap of leather. Dean's eyes track the movement, and something shifts in his expression.

Well, Dean was probably more than turned on because he had his girl on top of him.

"Arms up."

He raises his arms above the head, and you loop the belt around his wrists, threading it through the slats of the headboard and buckling it tight. He tests the give— not much. His biceps flex, the tendons in his forearms standing out, but the belt holds.

"How's that?" you ask.

"Unfair," he rasps. "You're unfair."

You go back to grape without giving answer and Dean promises himself to fuck up your cunt once you're done with the nonsense.

You take him deep, gagging around his length, drool running down your chin, and his wrists yank against the belt, the leather creaking. His abs are trembling, his chest heaving, and when you feel him getting close— so fucking close once more— you pull off.

"Grape is a five out of ten. Mmm too sour, leaves a weird aftertaste."

"I hate you," Dean chokes out, his cock is leaking through the condom, hips still chasing your mouth.

Mint was next. The cool sensation hit your tongue and his cock simultaneously, making him jolt. You sucked him slow, lazy, one hand wrapped around the base while your mouth worked the top half. His thighs were trembling continuously now, is aconstant vibration, and every few seconds his hips would buck up involuntarily, chasing more friction.

"Please," he said, his voice had gone rough from the small groans and moans. "Please, I'm so close —"

"Mint is six out of ten. Refreshing, weirdly tingly.. like brushing your teeth."

"I swear to God —"

Orange. You rolled it on, stroked him twice with a tight grip, then licked a long stripe from base to tip. His head fell back, throat working, a broken sound escaping him.

"Orange. Two out of ten, plastic acidic. No notes."

Vanilla and bubblegum went and go,the same thing, suck, stroke, review. The guy was shaking constantly, wrists straining against the belt, knuckles white.

He was losing the ability to form sentences, and you had one more to go yet.

Banana.

You tore open the packet, rolled it on, and then, instead of going down on him like he expected, you swung your leg over his chest and settled your pussy right over his face.

Your underwear was still on, with damp silk pressed against your swollen pussy, feeling the heat of his breath through the fabric as you settled.

"What—" Dean started, and you pressed down, cutting him off.

"You want to come sooo badly," you said, reaching to wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him, feeling him twitch in your grip. "Then be good and eat me properly. Show me you deserve it."

He groaned against your cunt, nosed the fabric aside, tongue dragging through the slick, swollen folds, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning.

He was sloppy with it — desperate, uncoordinated, licking into you like a man dying of thirst. His mouth found your clit and sucked, and you clenched your jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

He was panting hot air against your folds, whimpering between strokes, his mouth working frantically while his hips fucked up into your hand.

You stroked him lazily, such mismatched rhythms; his tongue was frantic and begging, but your hand slow and controlled.

You kissed the tip of his cock through the condom, then poked at it with your finger, watching it bounce. Played with him. Tugged gently. Pressed your thumb against the sensitive underside while his hips jerked wildly.

"You're doing so well," you murmured, though you weren't sure he could hear you over his own desperate panting.

You kissed his cock again, lips lingering on the head, then gave him a long stroke that made his back arch off the mattress.

He was sobbing into your pussy, literally sobbing! Wet, muffled sounds of desperation as his tongue worked overtime, sliding through your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you as better it could.

He was good at this, he was always good at this, and you could feel the pressure building low in your belly, heat coiling tighter with every pass of his mouth.

Your own arousal was dripping down, mixing with his spit, and the wet sounds of his mouth on you were almost as obscene as the sounds of your hand on his overstimulated cock.

You pulled off his face.

His face was slick with you, flushed red, eyes glazed and desperate. A broken sound left him between your name and a prayer.

"Banana," you said, breathless. "Eight out of ten. Bonus points for the amazing view you gave."

"Wait—" He gasped. "I was close.. was gonna make you—"

"I know." You swung your leg back over, settling between his thighs again.

The flavor was cloying, sickly sweet, and you scrunched your nose as you sucked.

God, you loved this. Loved the weight of him on your tongue, how he throbbed against the roof of your mouth, the sounds he couldn't stop making. You were a cock lover through and through, and Dean's was your absolute favorite.

You worked him with everything — mouth, both hands, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowed, taking him deep enough to gag and then pulling back to kiss the tip, then taking him deep again.

His whole body was rigid, every muscle locked, tears actual tears tracking down his temples into his hair."Please babe, please, I can't— I need—"

His face twisted with the agony of being denied eight times in a row. His wrists were raw from pulling against the belt, and his cock was so hard it looked painful, flushed deep red beneath the banana latex.

You reached up and untied the belt. His hands dropped immediately to your body as you took his cock in your hand— firm grip, steady strokes— and leaned down to kiss the tip through the condom one last time while working him.

"Cum for me," you said against the head of his cock, and that was all it took.

He came in about twelve seconds.

The sound he made was a wrecked, broken shout that bounced off the motel walls.

His cock pulsed in your hand, shooting thick ropes as you guide it keeping the stroking.

"That's it! Sooo good, Dean. You did so well."

He made a mess, the cum filling the condom, spilling over your fingers where the latex slipped, streaking his stomach. You kept your hand moving, milking him through the aftershocks until he whimpered and finally let go.

"You," he breathed into your hair, "are fucking crazy."

"Pfft you liked it."

You laughed against his skin, feeling the rapid hammer of his heart slowing beneath your cheek. His hand came up to rest on the small of your back, thumb tracing idle circles.

But you weren't done.

You pulled back from his chest, reaching over him to grab the last packet from the nightstand... The one you'd been saving.

The glow-in-the-dark one.

Dean cracked one eye open. "What is that?"

"Hold still."

His cock was soft, twitching feebly as you rolled the fluorescent-green condom down over him. In the dim light of the motel room, it started to glow faintly; a ghostly luminescence that made his dick look like it came out of a sci-fi movie.

"Mmhmm." You straddled his hips, your pussy still puffy and slick from his mouth pressing against his cock.

You ground down slowly, feeling him stir beneath you, the smooth latex sliding through your folds. His mess from earlier was still on his stomach, cooling against your thighs as you rocked against him.

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" You rolled your hips, grinding your clit against the length of him. He groaned, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in. "You've had your fun."

His cock was hardening again beneath the condom, filling out as you dragged your wet cunt over him. The glow-in-the-dark latex caught the light every time you moved, casting a faint green glow up between your bodies.

"After all," you said, reaching down to position him at your entrance, the tip pressing into you, "I haven't been properly fucked yet."

Dean's grip on your hips tightened, he looked up at you with reverence and desperation.

All that macho act was completely gone, replaced by pure want.

"Then do something about it," he rasped.

You smiled, and sank down.

Lainey felt her heart flicker as she padded over and climbed into bed beside him. Dean moved to let her snuggle against his chest, eyes on her as she looked up at him with a smile.

Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips gently. When she let him, he took it deeper, settling his hand on her jaw to keep them tethered before it slowly skimmed down her body, dancing up under the hem of her shirt. Lainey clasped her hand over it.

‘And what do you think you’re doing?’ she said, pulling back to look at him.

‘Trying to cop a feel,’ Dean said.

‘And who says I’d let you do that on a first date?’ she said, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sweetheart you let me do more than that before our first date,’ Dean reasoned. Lainey rolled her eyes but sat up, forcing his arm off of her. Dean grumbled.

‘Hey, you’re the one who made it a first date,’ she mused.

‘So?’ he asked.

‘So we’re staying true to it,’ she said firmly.

‘Oh come on,’ Dean said, trying again and pouting when she swatted his hand away, ‘you’re telling me if this was our first date you wouldn’t have put out?’

‘Absolutely not,’ she said haughtily, ‘I’m a lady.’

When Dean snorted, she smacked him hard on the arm making him grin and roll his eyes, ‘alright m’lady,’ he teased, ‘what would you have done?’

‘I’d have let you walk me home,’ she said, leaning in closer, ‘then I’d have let you kiss me good night.’

Lainey leaned in, letting her lips brush against his gently before she pulled back, grinning when his lips chased hers for a second.

‘Then, I’d have said good night and shut the door in your face,’ she said, sitting herself back and giggling when Dean’s face fell.

‘Tease,’ Dean grumbled.

‘Always leave ‘em wanting more,’ she shrugged.

‘Yeah, you’re telling me,’ Dean grumbled, shifting his hand against his crotch. He felt his cock twitch under his palm, begging for attention. Lainey pretended not to notice, sinking into the headboard with a sigh before she said, ‘of course I’d always text.’

Dean looked at her, his eyes narrowing.

‘Text?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, to say thank you for such a nice time, she explained.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, settling against the headboard. Lainey shuffled closer and placed a hand on his chest, fiddling with his amulet, her eyes big and innocent.

‘Yeah, you know, tell you I’m home safe, in bed,’ she breathed. Dean watched her, felt her finger twirl against the string, brushing against his skin lightly, ‘how I couldn’t even be bothered to change into my pyjamas, just dumped my clothes on the floor and climbed on in.’

Dean felt himself throb at the thought.

‘Tell you how I can’t wait to see you again. How I’d be thinking of it every minute,’ she mused, a breath of a laugh leaving her as Dean’s chest hitched.

‘Would you?’ she asked quietly.

‘Would I what sweetheart?’ Dean murmured, his hand moving to capture hers on his chest.

‘Be thinking about me?’ she asked.

‘I’d be thinking about you every second,’ Dean promised, moving his hand down her arm, skimming over her waist. Only she moved to catch it, holding his wrist gently and stopping him before he could pull her shirt up. Dean paused, his brow knitting together in confusion, but Lainey just held his gaze, a smile on her face.

‘Yeah?’ she whispered, her thumb brushing the back of his hand, ‘prove it.’

‘What?’ Dean breathed though his brain kicked into gear as her hand moved his. Dean watched as they landed right along the ridge of him, his hand falling on his thigh when he realised what she was doing. A groan left him the second she made contact, palming him over the cotton of his boxers, ‘Lainey.’

‘Will you show me?’ she asked.

‘Baby we can just-’

‘I wanna see you,’ Lainey said quietly, ‘I wanna see you think of me.’

The request was quiet and sat in the room, wrapping around him with the intensity that her touch did. Dean just looked at her, his darkened eyes searching hers that were watching him open and wanting. Suddenly he felt self-conscious mumbling a hesitant, ‘sweetheart, I want you.’

‘You have me,’ she breathed, leaning in until her forehead rested against his, as she guided his hand across. Lainey slipped her hand inside his boxers, pushing them down his thighs as far as they could go before pulling him out into the cool air of the room, ‘just let me watch? Please.’

Dean hesitated, looking down at his cock resting in her warm hand. Lainey stayed still, watching him expectantly. He didn’t know why he felt so suddenly embarrassed. It wasn’t like he’d never done it before, but there was something about the way she was watching him. Something about it just being him and not the two of them that made him feel open. But he could feel her wanting it, and he couldn’t deny her that. So, he wrapped his own hand over hers, slowly tugging himself until he was completely rigid. Lainey settled immediately, resting her head on his shoulder as she watched, her breath fanning against his collarbone as she whispered, ‘does that feel good?’

‘Yeah…yeah, feels fine,’ Dean grunted, his throat dry. He swallowed hard, his knuckles white around his own shaft as he murmured, ‘sweetheart, you know if you don’t want to-’

‘What are you thinking about?’ she interrupted softly.

In truth Dean wasn’t thinking of anything but her pressed against him, the roughness of his palm and how it never felt as good as hers that now sat on his thigh, thumb moving softly against his hip. When he didn’t answer she carried on, her voice soft and encouraging as she gently coaxed answers from him.

‘What did you think of last time you did it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Dean grunted, his eyes dropping shut, ‘kinda don’t have to anymore...’

‘Okay have you ever thought of me before?’

‘Lainey,’ Dean whispered, his cheeks turning pink as he suddenly felt some damn teenager having to explain why the water bill had gone up again this month.

‘So yeah then,’ Lainey giggled softly against his skin, ‘…when?’

‘I don’t know, Dean said, a dark flush creeping down his neck.

‘Liar.’

‘Okay fine…’ Dean grumbled, his pace stuttering for half a second, ‘I guess last time was…do you remember when you had the flu?’

Lainey nodded against his shoulder, her eyes fixed on how he moved his thumb over his head, teasing through the bead of pre-cum oozing from it. She felt her core ache at the sight, and then again at the memory of the pool.

‘Well, we showered together but you were too tired to do anything,’ Dean admitted, his voice dropping, ‘seeing you in there kinda…well it was just to make it go away.’

‘Thought you could see a naked lady without popping a boner,’ Lainey challenged softly, looking up at him with a smirking eyebrow raised. Dean’s dick twitched hard against his own palm when she grinned smugly, but he didn’t offer anything in retort. He couldn’t really make his brain think of anything else but her soaped up and clinging onto him and Lainey didn’t seem to mind that at all, in fact, she just pressed deeper.

‘Okay, was that the only time?’ she murmured, tracing her finger across the line of his hips, soft enough to make a line of goosebumps form and an odd flutter to come behind his belly button that made his balls tighten.

‘No,’ Dean breathed.

‘Okay so?’ she pressed.

‘I don’t know… before that was…’ Dean started, grunting as he felt something swell inside him, his release already threatening to come as his hand sped up a touch.

‘Was?’

‘Before we got together,’ Dean admitted.

‘When?’ she pressed.

‘You remember that hunt with Jimmy?’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ Lainey drawled.

‘Well that case we shared a bed, only when I woke up, you’d kinda wrapped yourself around me and well it’s not my fault-’

‘Oh so it’s my fault?’ she mused, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, ‘or is it Jimmy’s?’

Dean glared at her and she, pushed her hand deeper, just the pressure just above his shaft doing something funny to his insides as she teased, ‘bet you weren’t jealous then, huh? Did you want to take a picture baby? Me all wrapped around you just for Jimmy?’

‘Don’t,’ Dean grumbled, his head bumping back against the headboard. Lainey smirked.

‘Anything else sweetheart?’ she murmured.

‘No,’ Dean muttered, though the flush on his cheeks remained.

‘Don’t lie to me Dean Winchester,’ Lainey warned, moving her hand down to hold his balls, rolling them firmly against her fingers. Dean grunted loudly, his hips involuntarily bucking up into her touch as his hand sped up against his shaft. His ees flew open, looking at the devilish and expectant look on her face. When he didn’t say anything, she tightened her grip just a touch, making his leg shake and his breath come out in shallow hitches as he gritted out, ‘okay fine… do you remember the third case we ever worked?’

‘The poltergeist?’ Lainey asked, trying to recall back that far.

‘Yeah,’ Dean breathed, ‘we bumped into each other early in the case and ended up having to share a room.’

‘Yeah so?’ Lainey murmured, her eyes fixed on his face. Curious.

‘So you woke up at the ass crack of dawn, babbling about a lead. And I don’t know what it was, just bein’ a fuckin’ kid or havin’ a girl in my room but I just lay there tryna hide I had a massive fuck stork on,’ Dean grunted. Lainey giggled, the sound warm in the quiet room.

‘So I told you to go without me,’ Dean continued, ‘and then when you’d gone, I went to the bathroom.’

‘My, my,’ Lainey mused, moving her hand, her finger trailing along his skin, teasing along his nipple that sent a lightening rod to his cock, ‘quite the habit you’ve got there Mr Winchester.’

‘Yeah,’ Dean grunted, ‘except…’

‘Except?’

‘I nearly didn’t need to. You’d left your fuckin’ panties on the shower rod,’ Dean admitted, his head falling back, eyes closed as he thought of the memory, ‘practically creamed myself just looking at ‘em,’

‘You thought of me then?’ Lainey asked, excitement bubbling through her.

‘They were just sitting there lookin’ at me,’ Dean reasoned desperately his hips twitching, ‘wasn’t thinking of you necessarily.’

‘What did you think of?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know…’

‘Dean,’ Lainey said, rolling his nipple in her finger and making his eyes snap open.

‘Them,’ he breathed, not looking away from her, ‘on an ass. Me just…y’know…’

‘What did she look like? The girl?’

‘Brunette, long hair,’ he rasped, his eyes rolling back as his hand moved faster, ‘fuck Lainey.’

‘Did you touch them?’ Lainey demanded.

‘What?’ Dean breathed.

‘My panties,’ she said, leaning up until her lips brushed the shell of his ear, ‘did you touch my panties when you touched yourself?’

‘Lainey,’ Dean whimpered.

‘You should have. You could’ve felt how wet they were for you,’ she whispered. He felt her move then, letting go of him. Dean watched as she shifted, lifting her hips until and reaching under the baggy fabric until lace appeared, moving down her thighs until she pulled them off her feet in one motion. Then she shifted onto her knees.

‘Wanna feel it now?’ she asked. Dean watched through heavy, blown-out pupils as she wrapped the warm, damp lace around his slick shaft, replacing his bare hand with the fabric. He could feel them, rough lace and the damp heat of her.

‘Jesus,’ Dean groaned.

‘All those times and that’s nothing on me wanting you, you know that? You see this? You feel this? This is what you do to me,’ she whispered, taking his hand and guiding it around the lace, ‘see?’

‘God baby…’

‘You gonna come in ‘em? Ruin ‘em for me?’ she said, teasing her other hand through his hair, forcing his head back a little. Dean dragged his eyes open, utterly powerless beneath her gaze, his hips helplessly bucking up into her guided touch.

‘Look at you… so eager for me,’ she cooed softly, her nails grazing against his scalp as making him let out a high and desperate sound. Lainey bit her lip, ‘you’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you Dean?’

Dean nodded pathetically, his eyes glossing over as his body took over. Lainey moved her other hand to his cheek, holding him to look at her, her thumb brushing against his spit-soaked lips.

‘You wanna come for me sweetheart?’ she asked. Dean nodded and she smiled, leaning forward until their foreheads were pressed together, eye closing as she whispered, ‘that’s it, baby…show me how much you love me.’

Dean came with a broken groan, his back arching off the bed as he spilled into his hand, soaking the lace in thick white ropes as his head fell down against her shoulder.

‘Lainey,’ he whimpered into the crook of her neck, his chest heaving as the last of his release escaped him.

‘It’s okay sweetheart,’ she breathed, her fingers running though his hair, ‘m’here.’

Dean stayed pressed against her for a moment, his face buried in her neck until he felt his heart rate return to something reasonable though the entire thing left him spent. When he started to move Lainey helped him, guiding him gently back against the headboard before she detangled herself from the sheets, pulling the destroyed laced from around him. She left him for a moment, disappearing into bathroom, and Dean felt his eyes flutter closed. They only opened when she returned, tissue in hand and new pair of panties sitting on her hips.

And just like that Dean kicked back into reality. The vulnerability that he’d allowed himself to bask in for a moment replaced by a deep self-consciousness that made him flush as she reached for him and forced his hand to reach out to stop her. Declared his throat and muttered, ‘it’s fine...let me.’

‘I got it,’ she said, watching him with sure eyes, kissing his knuckles as she moved his hand out of the way. And though he wanted to Dean didn’t argue, sensing this was just one of those things she needed tonight even if he didn’t understand it. Instead he just watched her work, shifted his hips when he was told and shuffled down into bed, pulling her close the minute she lay down.

Silence settled again. But not the quiet that had plagued her the last couple of days, that deep unbearable silence where Dean could hear nothing but her thoughts echoing around in her head and was desperate to know every single one. Now he had his own questions. He shifted, placing his hand over the one that was nod resting firmly against his heart, before he murmured, ‘Lainey?’

‘Mm?’ she said. Dean glanced down, though the only thing he could see was a mop of brown hair.

‘Not that I’m complaining but…you wanna tell me what all that was about?’ he asked quietly. Lainey shifted, glancing up though he couldn’t see her before pushing her face deeper against him, her eyes closing.

‘Just wanted to take care of you for once,’ she said quietly. Dean frowned but she didn’t elaborate just murmured, ‘good night, Dean.’

‘Night sweetheart.’

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tags (dean/spn/lainey)