A/N: written for LJ's kinkbingo. Crossposted to NWP, snfic

Assuage

Dean had thought he understood pain, in all its physical forms.

He'd been punched, kicked, stabbed, shot, slashed, bashed, crushed, and more. He'd been electrocuted, had almost drowned, had his internal organs smushed by remote control thanks to telekinetic opponents. He'd been kicked in the nuts by a really motivated woman. Pain? Definitely something he knew about, in detail.

Of course, that had been mortal pain.

This? This was something entirely different. Something new.

And holy FUCK it hurt.

Agony razored down every single nerve fibre, riccocheting around his body in a dance of excruciation. The heavy metal of the hooks pulled mercilessly at the muscle and bone where they pierced, and Dean could ifeel/i the gaping holes in his flesh. About the only thought he was able to keep in his head was Sam, alone and unprotected. It was probably part of the whole endless torture thing, that all he could picture (between screaming in agony and sobbing) was Sam facing down Lilith and losing. The worst part was knowing that this was ultimately all pain of the mind; that he couldn't escape it through healing, through unconsciousness or death. There was nowhere to go and no way to make it stop.

Which was why the sudden cessation came as such a shock.

Dean gasped, chest heaving as he fought to get himself under control. He could still feel the hooks and the rents torn in his flesh, could feel the cauldron of pain bubbling just outside his ability to reach, and he fervently wanted it to stay that way.

"Look who made it to Hell after all."

Dean closed his eyes and groaned. "Ruby."

"In the flesh." She laughed bitterly. "So to speak."

"What..." He swallowed convulsively. "What do you want, bitch?"

"I want Sam to win." She answered him flatly, angrily even. "For that I need him sane. For ithat/i, I need you sane."

"Yeah, well." Dean thought of the agonies awaiting him just out of reach. He opened his eyes to see her staring down at him, eyes black as coal pits and sweat beading her brow. "Good luck with that."

Her lips compressed. "I can't hold it back much longer. What I can do," she blinked and her eyes flicked back to their human blue. "Is give you something else to think about."

He laughed, hating the thread of hysteria in his own voice. "Good luck with that too," he managed to choke out.

"Oh, for that I won't need luck." Her lips spread slowly over even white teeth, and she licked them until they glistened. Her lashes swept down, and the pain roared through the barrier to crash back into every molecule.

Dean screamed, his throat tearing under the pressure.

Slowly, so slowly, he became aware of a single point of heat and wetness against his neck. It was soft and hot and most miraculously of all, it didn't hurt. Instead, a tiny thread of pleasure wormed its way into his mind. It was enough to let him catch his breath, to let him regain control of his voice and choke back the terrible noises. His chest heaved. Desperately he focused on that one small spot, bending every ounce of energy he could muster on it, shutting out everything else.

The point moved. He almost sobbed as his attention wavered before he could amend his concentration. Now he could make out the variations in pressure and texture that meant, imouth/i, that meant, isucking/i. He could feel the deliberate flick of tongue against skin.

He knew it was the demon. Yeah, Ruby, that bitch, that fucking spawn of Satan. But as long as she kept doing that, kept giving him something else to think about, he was fucked if he could bring himself to care.

A second sensation joined the first, tracing with exquisite slowness across the expanse of his chest. A hand, his mind provided helpfully. It slid carefully over his skin, avoiding the hooks and the biggest holes, path lubricated by his own blood. It paused over his nipple, tweaking just so, and Dean couldn't help it - he tried to move, tried to get more.

Agony exploded through him, wrenching loose another scream before the pressure of the mouth on his neck tightened into an all out bite, regaining his attention. He panted desperately, relaxing into immobility. The mouth returned to nips and sucks in reward, and Dean managed a shuddering breath.

Right. No more moving.

The hand resolved itself into separate fingers, rubbing deliberately over his nipple and sending little bolts of pleasure through his chest like flashes of lightning against the storm of constant pain. Another hand joined in, tracing the muscles of his ribs and heading steadily downward. Dean's stomach contracted as it glided through the soft hair of his abdomen.

The mouth lifted from his neck, and the pain rolled back into its place, threatening to overwhelm. He heard Ruby's voice whisper in his ear, "We have nothing but time, Dean. Concentrate," before it returned. Hot wet heat on his collarbone gave him focus and he gasped in relief. Distantly, he thought he heard her laugh.

Ruby's mouth slid down his chest, following the same path as her hands had. Her tongue lingered over his nipples, and he had a sudden flash of her licking the blood from his skin. Sharp teeth nipped him in retaliation (though he noticed she didn't deny it) before heading further south. She made long laps over the muscles of his abdomen, scraping her teeth over the ridges there.

Both hands and her mouth arrived at his groin at the same time.

Pain? What pain?

Dean was locked into utter immobility as her mouth closed over the head of his cock. He wasn't fully hard until he felt that velvety heat engulf him, but the sheer pleasure of the touch had the pain all but disappearing in his head. Slowly she began to move, keeping the agonies of Hell at bay with her talented mouth.

He struggled hard to stay still, to not thrust up into her hands. Even knowing what would happen if he did, still he shook with the desire to move. She dug her fingers into his hips, kneading with easy rhythm. White heat began building at the base of his spine, familiar static starting to fill his ears. Dean closed his eyes even tighter, the sensation twisting around his gut until it finally roared free and he exploded.

He brought his breathing back under control with effort, opening his eyes to see Ruby staring down at him with a strangely uneasy expression on her face. He swallowed hard, feeling the wave of the agonies of hell already threatening to break back over him. His chest heaved, and he found himself totally unable to speak, except one word - his brother's name. Ruby's face softened.

The wave broke.

Dean screamed.

Ruby's eyes flashed black, and she bent her head to start again.