013 – handcuffs

Author: darkmoore

Title: It's all about trust

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2270

Warnings: angst, mentions of incest, slight kink

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just want to play with them.

Beta: Cass (lj "capierson"), Maya (lj "Mayalaen")

The sight that greeted Dean when he came out of the bathroom, nude, still towelling his hair, made him stop dead in his tracks. Sam was sitting on the bed, shit-eating grin on his face and was dangling a pair of handcuffs from one of his long fingers.

Dean's heart dropped into his stomach. Shit. Busted. Sam had found the handcuffs and – clever as he was – would come to just the right conclusions in no time. And that would most probably be the end of their intimate relationship. Maybe Sam would even leave. Dean silently cursed himself for even keeping those damn things. He didn't think he'd ever work up the courage to actually try and use them, anyway. But still, like a symbol of a need he wasn't yet ready to voice, he'd carried the handcuffs around for weeks now. And yes, part of him had known that it was only a matter of time until Sam would eventually discover them. That part of Dean that had hoped and waited for this to happen, though, was quite absent right now. In fact, Dean just felt terrified.

"Man, Dean, you surprise me. Handcuffs? Is there something you wanted to tell me? Some well-hidden kinks, maybe? Want me to handcuff you to the bed? Come on, confess!" Sam's tone was mocking, laughter evident in his voice and Dean released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Sam wasn't being serious – at least not yet. He obviously hadn't noticed the deer-in-the-headlights look Dean was certain he had sported. 'Thank god for small mercies.' he thought.

Dropping the towel he had used to dry his hair, Dean made a step towards the bed, putting on his best game face, grinning, "Don't be ridiculous, Sammy. I got them from this police chick we met some time back. Thought they could be useful. What were you doing snooping in my bag anyway?" he asked, hoping to distract Sam from the threatening item. Dean knew he hadn't been able to keep his nervousness out of his voice completely. He made a move to take the handcuffs from Sam, but his brother snatched his hand back, bringing them out of reach.

"I was searching for one of my shirts. I couldn't find it and thought you might have packed it. Don't change the subject, Dean. Useful?" he asked teasingly, eyebrows raised and 'you must be kidding me' look firmly in place. "We waste the things we hunt, Dean. We don't handcuff them," he clarified, clearly enjoying Dean's uneasiness.

"Yeah, so? You never know if they won't come in handy one day. Besides, if we were to use them I would be the one doing the handcuffing," Dean said, hoping he didn't sound as terrified as he felt.

"Dream on, Dean." Sam laughed, toying with the handcuffs before dangling them some more. "They're even the real deal, Dean. No kinky sex toy you can get out of easily. You sure you don't want to confess something?" he grinned up at Dean, clearly trying to get some sort of reaction out of his lover.

Dean's patience was running thin. He wasn't in the mood for Sam's games. His brother's playful streak was coming to the surface at the most inappropriate times. Dean knew he should just go with the teasing. It would be best to play along and ensure Sam knew he was just joking. But somehow, Dean couldn't. "Give them back," he demanded harshly, unable to stop himself. Dean reached for the handcuffs again, while grabbing Sam's shoulder. Sam snatched the threatening item out of reach once more while letting himself drop backwards on the bed. Dean landed on top of him with a startled yelp.

Using his brother's momentary confusion, Sam switched their positions with one smooth, well-angled move. He dropped the handcuffs on the bed just outside of Dean's reach and grabbed Dean's wrists, saying, "That's more like it. You under me, at my mercy." Sam's tone was teasing, but Dean had had enough. He easily broke free from Sam's grip and pushed his brother from his lap.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Sam," he snapped, grabbing the handcuffs and walking over to where his things lay. He stuffed the handcuffs into the bag with a bit too much force and grabbed a pair of shorts, pulling them on with agitated movements. Dean felt Sam's gaze bore into his back.

"What's the matter with you, Dean?" Sam asked, confusion and worry lacing his voice. "I was just joking, you know?"

Dean froze, jeans half way pulled up his legs and turned around to Sam slightly. "Yeah, I know," he said, head bowed, voice carefully neutral. He could see Sam frown and a wave of panic rushed through him when his brother got up from the bed and moved close to him. Forcing himself to calm down, Dean finished pulling on his jeans and ignored the way Sam was deliberately invading his personal space. A tentative touch on his bare shoulder made Dean finally look into his brother's eyes. He could see confusion there, but also love and trust.

"Tell me what's wrong, Dean" Sam said quietly, searching Dean's eyes.

"Nothing's wrong, Sammy. I'm just not in the mood," Dean replied, looking away from Sam. He knew he couldn't talk to Sam about this, didn't dare to even think about it as it was.

"Look at me, Dean." Sam demanded softly, and Dean couldn't help but obey. He could never deny Sam anything anyway.

At the look on Sam's face, Dean's heart missed a beat. It was showing concern and love, but also the first traces of understanding.

"You can tell me everything, Dean. You know that, right?" Sam asked, confirming Dean's feeling that he was suspecting something.

"Yeah, of course I know," Dean answered, avoiding Sam's eyes and looking at the floor instead. He was terrified that Sam would find out about his fantasies and be disgusted by them, that his brother would guess what he'd been thinking about whenever he had held the handcuffs. Dean Winchester, big bad hunter and smart ass par excellence, was dreaming about giving up control. It was true. Dean was fantasizing about what it would be like to have someone else call the shots, the luxury of letting someone else be in charge for a little while.

But not just anyone else. No, the only person Dean trusted enough in his whole life was Sam. The man he loved with all his heart and soul, the man he couldn't bear to lose over this.

"Then tell me what's wrong, Dean. I know there's something you're not telling me. This wasn't just you not being in the mood to play. There is something else. Something about the handcuffs you don't want me to know. Tell me, Dean, please," Sam pleaded.

Dean swallowed hard. He wanted to tell Sam, wanted to trust Sam with his secret, but he was too scared of losing him. Sam was his life, the centre of his universe, that one single person Dean couldn't live without and he knew he wouldn't survive if he lost Sam over this. "I can't, Sammy," Dean whispered brokenly, throat constricting painfully around the lump in his throat. He blinked away the tears that suddenly threatened to fall and tried to put some space between himself and his brother. But Sam caught his arm turning Dean around so he had to face Sam.

"I think I know what's wrong, Dean," Sam said, looking serious. "I think I unintentionally stumbled over your secret. Come on." He tugged at Dean's arm and led him over to the bed. "Sit with me. I think we need to talk."

Dean's stomach clenched. This was it. This was the moment he had feared and dreaded all this time. The moment he was about to lose Sam. Dean swallowed again, his eyes glued to Sam's face, who was now sitting opposite of him on the king sized bed.

"Don't look at me like this, Dean," Sam said, warmth and love audible in his voice. "Whatever you think is gonna happen, whatever scenario is playing out in your head right now, it's wrong, okay? I'm not mad, I'm not disgusted, I'm not gonna leave you for wanting to be tied up or wanting to tie me up, all right? I love you, Dean, and I want you to be happy." Sam took a deep breath and Dean blinked at him, surprised.

His brother knew him way too well. "Sammy, I…" Dean started, but couldn't say it. He just couldn't imagine Sam not freaking. This wasn't how Dean behaved. He was the older brother. The protector. The reckless one. He couldn't go all weak and needy on Sam all of a sudden.

Sam sighed, looking at Dean thoughtfully for a moment. Then he got up and Dean's heart sank. Had Sam changed his mind? It was so hard to believe that Sam really meant all the things he'd said. Dean was sure he'd messed up. He should have spoken when he had had the chance. Sam was mad at him for sure. He might leave after all. Dean silently cursed himself for having kept the damn handcuffs.

The handcuffs that Sam was just now fishing out of the bag again.

Dean watched in stunned silence as Sam carried the handcuffs over to the bed before sitting down beside Dean again. He sought Dean's eyes and asked, "Do you trust me, Dean?"

Stunned, Dean just blinked. Then he answered, "You know I do." His thoughts drifted to their hunts and how Sam had his back each and every time, ever since they had been kids.

Once again, Sam surprised him by saying, "I'm not talking about the hunt here, Dean and you know it. So I'll ask you again. Do you trust me?"

There was something in Sam's eyes that sent a shiver down Dean's spine. It was intense. "Yes, Sammy, I do," Dean finally said, mesmerized by his brother's unusual behavior. Maybe Sam wouldn't leave after all.

"Good." Sam smiled at him encouragingly. "Now, lie down and grip the headboard, Dean."

Dean's jaw dropped. This couldn't be happening. Sam hadn't just said what he thought he had said. That was completely impossible. They had fooled around in bed before, but being tied up – handcuffed – was a completely different league. Arousal shot through Dean at the thought that his brother was about to make his fantasy come true. But, what if Sam only did this for Dean? What if Sam didn't like that kind of thing himself? Sam wasn't usually the one taking control voluntarily. It was unfair to ask him to do this for Dean. Even if Dean technically hadn't asked anything at all. Sam had guessed it. But still. No he couldn't let Sam do this for him. "Sammy, I…," Dean stammered. He was stunned by Sam's behavior. "You really don't have to…" He was interrupted when one of Sam's fingers settled over his lips, shutting him up effectively.

"It's okay, Dean. What we've done in bed before felt good, right? I want to make you feel good again, baby. It's is my choice, too. Let me do this for you, please. I'll tie you up, take control, blindfold you if that's what you want. Just name it. Whatever you need – you'll get it. I'll do whatever you want, Dean, but you have to tell me what it is you need. I don't want you to get uncomfortable."

Dean looked at his brother for a moment, thinking about Sam's words. This was his chance. Sam was willing to make Dean's fantasy come true. Only that Dean wasn't so sure he could really do it. It wasn't so much about not trusting Sam. It was about Dean not knowing if he would really be able to let go and give up control. But he'd never know if he didn't try. So Dean took a deep breath, lowered his eyes and said, "I… I guess I just… need you to be in charge for a while. Need to give up control, you know? If… if that's okay with you. And I… I mean, I'm not sure I can go through with it…," he trailed off, not daring to look Sam in the eyes.

A second later Dean felt Sam softly gripping his chin, lifting his jaw. "That's perfectly fine with me, Dean. I mean it, babe. Whatever you want. And if it gets too much, if you want to stop or you think you can't do it after all, just say so, okay? We won't do anything you're not comfortable with. This is about you feeling good, remember?" Sam said softly, holding Dean's gaze.

"What about you?" Dean asked in a small voice. "I mean, if it's about me, what are you getting out of it?"

To Dean's surprise Sam chuckled, before planting a little kiss on the tip of Dean's nose. "Oh Dean, you really don't know how much I enjoy being with you, do you? Even if you decided today that we can only cuddle from now on and won't have sex anymore, I'd still enjoy every second of it. Because it's you I'm being with, you jerk."

"Aww, Sammy, you're such a girl," Dean protested and winced. Then he indicated the handcuffs Sam was still holding, "You gonna use them now, or what?"

He moved to lie down on the bed and very deliberately put his hands on the headboard. "I'm all yours, Sammy."

Sam just grinned and clicked the handcuffs into place.