With many many thanks to giddygeek and resonant8 and cesperanza.
ETA: ps, this is all sevenfists' fault. *blames*
Sam/Dean, adult, explicit.
Sam rubbed his thumb hard over the edge of the smack, scraping a little with his nail, bright and sharp. "Good?"
"Yeah," Dean said, on a hoarse breath. "Yeah." And it was, jesus, so fucking good, like everything; like everything else he'd asked for.
( Read the story )
no i'm not done with revisions yet. *slinks away to starbucks to write*