As they laid there in their post-orgasmic phase, Dean couldn't fall asleep. Not quite yet at least. His mind was still running hundreds of miles an hour, and he wasn't ready to give up the sight of Sam, curled up in his arms with his head on Dean's chest, snoring lightly.
It was the times like this that Dean loved the most. The time spent afterwards cuddling - not that he would ever admit that to Sam. He loved seeing Sam curled up, asleep, and peaceful. That was something rare these days: peace. Especially with Sam's constant fight with Hell and nightmares.
Putting his arm protectively around Sam's waist, Dean laid his head back on the sweat-soaked pillow and closed his eyes, the images of what they had just done very vivid in his mind. He knew that if he hadn't been so tired, it would have been an instant turn on.
Reliving the memories in his head, Dean smirked to himself as he remembered kissing down Sam's body. He had had his little brother taken away from him far too many times to want to rush and get it other with.
Tonight, like any other night, Dean had kissed down Sam's body, memorizing every little bit about him in case it got taken away from him. It was something he liked to do. Kiss and lick every little curve, every indent, every line of the toned body that belonged to Sam. the action was a drug to Sam, and the object was the drug to Dean. Neither of them could get enough of that slow movement that was only stopped when they got desperate for more.
As Dean ran his mind over Sam's body, he couldn't help but chuck and smile as he remembered the mole or the freckle that was on the inside of his right thigh. He didn't know what it was, all Dean knew was that Sam liked it.
The first time Dean discovered it was a sweet spot was completely by accident. He had been ghosting his lips along the inside of the thigh just to fuck with Sam, and had heard the deep groan as he passed the mole. Curious, he had tried again and realized that it was a pleasure spot for Sam. Dean had been using it to his advantage ever since then.
Smirking into the darkness at the memory, Dean sighed and continued in his memories.
As time had progressed, Dean had experimented. First, just kissing and sucking on the mole - almost like a third nipple. Then he had combined his hands on Sam with the sucking, and loved the almost keening noise he got in response to the action.
It was a tradition now. As Dean catalogued every part of Sam, once he got to the mole, his lips would be around the mole as his hands would be around Sam as he fondled him gently, both lips and hands working in the same rhythm.
The first few times, that was all that it had taken to get Sam to come undone. To get Sam spasming under Dean's hands. To have him at his absolutely most vulnerable.
Those first few times, Sam had been so embarrassed, he wouldn't even look at Dean and had practically avoided Dean, until Dean had pulled him down and kissed him into a piece of putty.
The mole was something that could never be overlooked, nor could it ever be forgotten. Not with the noises that Sam made.
Dean smirked and curled into Sam, finally falling asleep, him dreams clouded with Sam and the mole.