Hush-a-bye

dont.let.go.

wincest

-

He drags me back under with the scream and pound of his ever-fragile heart.

Pulls me down-down-down again. Back where demons play and the phantoms reap souls like treasures.

He smells like Daddy-dear always used to smell. To much sweat and sulfur and not enough gin and tonic.

He begs me promises. Broken, whole, gentle promises.

Fills all the holes he'd opened up in my heart when I ran away and he never followed.

Kisses away as much ache as he dares, mouthing along the fragile line of this sin and need we have echoing in the painful gap between us.

His lips raise me up, fly me to high to realise he's holding me tightly.

To tightly.

"never let you go," he never promises.

Never needs too.

Deanie-boi holds on like life itself demands it.

'don't let go' his eyes beg with all the almost insanity they can, even as he licks and tongues his way down the soft skin of my chest.

In the void of years, i'd almost forgotten how much I needed this.

Craved this.

My brothers soft touch in all the right (wrong) ways.

I cave - give into his pleading look. Just like always. Even when he has an odd glint to his eyes, like maybe he's been fighting alittle to long,

(alone)

and Dad... after everything he pushed on us. After every scar he caused. He left Dean in the ever-breaking of his soul.

I spread my arms in predictable surrender-

spread my legs in undeniable need.

And let me drag him to the depths of almost-hell, just so I can push him up to touch a little of heaven first.

"Won't let go," I swear lies in the white flash of Twisted and Beautiful we used to find as simple as 'climax'.