Dean stretched out, wincing at the pleasurable flare of pain in his nether regions. He liked it rough sometimes, and his brother had certainly delivered the goods.

He smirked. Time to return the favor.

As if on cue, the door opened. Sam walked in, his arms full of breakfast. Giving Dean a wickedly lascivious grin, he kicked the door closed, dropping the bags onto a table. "You ready for round two?" he said challengingly.

"Turnabout's fair play, Sammy." Dean threw back the sheet and laughed as Sam's eyes darkened. "After breakfast. And there'd better be some fucking bacon in there."