The next morning comes way too soon. Dean could stay wrapped up in Benny's arms for an eternity and it still wouldn't be long enough. But gentle kisses to the back of his neck combined with caresses up and down his sides finally draw him awake, and he whines in displeasure at being conscious. It's early, neither of them have to be at work for a couple of hours, and he just want to cuddle. That's exactly what they do for a while until Dean's stomach growls demandingly and Benny laughs.

"I'll make you breakfast. Anythin' you like, cher. What sounds good?"

It goes against every fibre in Dean to allow someone to take care of him like this, but he and Benny have had more than one frank discussion about aftercare following a scene, so Dean no longer argues. Last night when he came to, he found that Benny had untied him and cleaned him up with a warm cloth, that he was wearing soft sweatpants and a cosy t-shirt belonging to his dom, and that he was cradled in Benny's arms feeling safe and secure despite his aching body. Benny had kissed him over and over, had rubbed his arms and massaged lotion into the chafes from the rope, and had told him how perfect he had been, how gorgeous, how obedient and much Benny loves being with him. The bed had been stripped somehow and new sheets thrown on, and Benny had sat him up and fed him chocolate and helped him sip water until sleep tugged demandingly at the edge of his consciousness. He had fallen asleep on the other man's chest and sunk into pleasant, romance-filled dreams. He stretches in bed and watches the Deputy get up and throw on some sweats.

"Bacon. Coffee. Juice. Eggs over easy." He grins up at Benny who just smiles back at him.

"Oh, you wanna be spoiled, that it?" He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, leans down and kisses Dean deeply. "I'm sure I can manage that. You're havin' sugar in your coffee - no, don't argue with me - and water, too."

Dean frowns, but nods his acquiescence. He hates sugary morning coffee but Benny is right; he expended a lot of energy during their scene last night - one of their most intense yet - and he needs to replace it.

"OK. That sounds good."

"Stay here, sugar." Benny runs a hand lovingly through Dean's hair. "Stay in bed and relax, I'll go make us something to eat. Only get up if you need the bathroom, alright?"

Sleepy, Dean nods. His world still feels fuzzy around the edges from sleep and he's aching pleasantly in multiple places. Wrists, thighs, throat and ass, to name a few. He watches Benny go, hears him descend the stairs with his familiar, heavy footsteps, and he snuggles down into the blankets to doze for a few minutes. But he does need the bathroom, so he throws the sheets off himself and gets up to go. Immediately, the tender skin of his ass and thighs smarts, exposed to the air, and he hisses in discomfort. He's barely three steps across the room when a chill hits him; the feel of the cool wood under his feet, the air in the room now that he isn't swathed in blankets and comfort, and the exposure of being nude and alone in someone else's bedroom after what they've done hits him like a sledgehammer. Followed quickly by the memory of why they did what they did: because he fucked up. Week three of his new job, and error number three on his record already. Benny must be so disappointed in him, and this was his way of showing it.

All the sweet, gentle, caring words the other man has showered on him melt away, and Dean can only hear himself being reprimanded, being talked down to, and being humiliated while he lay naked and bound and unable to speak to defend himself. But that isn't what happened, the rational part of his mind tries to speak up. That isn't how it was! But Dean isn't feeling particularly rational right now: familiar feelings of disappointment, self-loathing, disgust and humiliation are washing over him and he stumbles to the bathroom on shaky legs. He tries to lock the door but his hands are trembling too much, so instead he gives in and curls up against the bathtub, arms around his knees and head resting on them, attempting to calm himself. His thighs ache as he moves, reminding him of the things they did together, and the welts on his ass sting more than a little.

You let him down, Dean. And look what he had to do to get the message home. You fucked up, again. Why can't you just do as you're asked? Why can't you manage basic tasks without him having to intervene? You don't deserve the job you have, and you don't deserve him.

A noise outside the door draws his attention but only for a second. He's cold, starting to shiver, and he hugs his knees even tighter.

Get it together. If Benny sees you this way he'll be disgusted. Pull yourself together, Dean!

"I'll be out in a minute…" His voice sounds relatively normal to his own ears, albeit muffled into his forearms. Dimly he hears someone knocking at the door and tightens his grip on his knees. He doesn't get a chance to say anything more: the door opens and suddenly Benny is on his knees at his side and a hand is in his hair. The other comes to stroke his shoulder then, as Benny seems to realise that Dean is shaking almost violently, he sighs sadly and wraps an arm around him, pulling him close to his chest.

"Darlin', what is it? Dean, talk to me, please, cher. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Dean can't lift his head, can't let Benny see how close he is to tears. "I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I promise, I promise I won't do it again."

"Dean," Benny sounds pained, and holds him a little tighter, starting to rub circles into the skin of his back, tracing his spine and drawing slow patterns with his fingers. "Don't call me that any more, the scene is over, you know that. Look at me." Dean shakes his head, face still buried in his arms. "Sugar, please look at me. Please trust me."

He raises his head slowly, and Benny moves in front of him to cup his jaw and look deeply into his eyes, his own expression unhappy and worried. He sighs, resting his forehead against Dean's, then pulls away to reach over and turn the shower on. Steam slowly starts to swirl up and thicken the air as Benny rubs Dean's shoulders to try and bring the feeling back into them.

"I thought you were alright," he murmurs, running his hands through his hair and stroking his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dean, really, I am. Lets get you in the shower-"

"No, Benny," Dean grabs for his lover, eyes wide and scared as fear crashes through him. "It's me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean it. It won't happen again, I swear…"

"Baby. I know." Benny gently loops Dean's arms around his own neck and stands, holding him upright with a strong arm around his waist and manoeuvres him into the shower. After stripping off his sweat pants, he joins him a second later. His hands are warm and soothing, and stroke over Dean's sore ass and thighs and he leans into the touch, closing his eyes and fighting a swell of emotion. Benny is his dom, his lover, the man he defers to both at work and in private. He shouldn't have to care for Dean like this, he needs to be stronger. Needs to not fall apart at the drop of a hat. Needs to get it right.

Benny takes both his hands and places them on the wall in front of him, his chest pressing up against Dean's back. For the first time in their relationship, he feels a stab of fear: he isn't ready for another round. He's too sore, feels too raw and too low, but he doesn't know how to say no. He hopes Benny asks for his colour, because he's sure he could be honest and say yellow, but instead lips press against the back of his neck and he shivers in trepidation.

"Benny… I don't think… I'm…" It hurts. "I don't think I can…"

"Darlin'. I would never." Benny's hands come to his hips; the water cascades down on them both, streaming over their skin and it's cleansing. Refreshing. Dean's eyes fall closed. "Stay right there. I'll take care 'o you."

And he does. He massages Dean's shoulders, following the movements of his hands with gentle kisses all the way down his spine, then kneels behind him and repeats the caresses on his calves, thighs and ass, firm fingers working the tension out of sore muscles. There's nothing sexual about it at all, just a deep desire to make Dean feel better, to work the tension from his body and to relax him. Benny stands up and gathers up shower gel and shampoo, and insists Dean stays still while he washes the remnants of sweat and come from his body, then massages shampoo into his scalp until Dean's head falls back to land on his shoulder. And that's when Dean can no longer hold back the tears: it feels so good, to be held and caressed and cherished like this, and he doesn't deserve any of it. A swell of emotion comes crashing down on him and he chokes on a sob, tears starting to flow freely and Benny holds him as he cries. He's turned around in the Deputy's arms and held close, the warmth of the steam and water cocooning them and making him feel safe, secure within Benny's embrace. He doesn't know how long he cries for, face buried in his hands against Benny's chest, but when he finally comes back to himself they're curled up in bed together and gentle hands are stroking through his hair. They lie together quietly for a while until his sobs subside to gentle sniffles and the feeling has returned properly to his limbs.

They don't go to work. Benny calls the precinct and tells them something half-hearted and whoever he speaks to gives no argument. Then he turns back to Dean and checks in, stroking his skin and whispering words of comfort to him until he's properly back to himself and can form words and sit up without help.

Benny sits up with him and helps him drink juice, then coffee, then hand-feeds him pieces of bacon and toast, which Dean takes silently, gratefully. He's too worn-out and exhausted to contemplate even basic tasks himself, and having Benny's solid arm wrapped around him while he's fed is grounding and comforting. When he's done, they lie back down again Anna Benny resumes stroking his hair.

"Let's talk about it, cher." It's not a question. "I haven't seen you drop like that in a long time. Talk to me."

"I just…" Dean's voice is raw from crying and he coughs once or twice to clear his throat. "I don't want to disappoint you. Ever. And I guess I felt like I had."

"Why?"

"Because…" Because you had to punish me. Because I screwed up. "I felt like I had."

"You could never disappoint me, Dean." Benny's voice is low and serious. "Ever. The only thing you could do to disappoint me is to not be honest with me. You know that."

"I do." He toys with his fingers, feeling his cheeks redden. He's so tired, all he wants to do is sleep. He feels hungover, or like he's run a marathon. "And I know I didn't, not really. I just…"

"Just what?"

"I just want to be enough," he says it so quietly he knows Benny has to strain to hear him.

"Enough for what?" The surprise is thick in the other man's voice.

"For you. At work, at home… For my colleagues." For myself. "I don't want to be a failure." And shit, that was hard to admit. He feels his hands tremble and he presses his lips tightly closed, waiting for the response. Waiting, hoping, to be told he isn't a failure. That he won't be if he works hard enough. That Benny can help him to not be.

"Cher. Look at me." He does, tilting his head to look up into dark eyes that are now soft with compassion. Benny kisses him, his stubble rough against Dean's skin. "You've always been enough for me. And you always will be, no matter what you do. It's a privilege bein' with you, Dean. Every day's a charm, and I mean that. I…"

He goes quiet, and Dean feels panic bubble up in his throat. Is Benny going to say… no, surely not… The older man kisses him again, cupping his jaw and exploring his mouth gently for a minute or two. Then, against Dean's lips, he whispers words that go straight to Dean's heart and curl up there, making a home for themselves.

"I love you, Dean Winchester. You are enough. You'll always be enough."

Half an hour later, when Dean is able to speak again, he says it back. And a moment after that, he says, "I don't feel like I'm enough for you right now, Benny." The other man starts to protest but he hushes him, not finished yet. He can't look at Benny when he speaks again, because he feels like he'll cry, but when he's done a soft kiss is pressed to his forehead and he's held close for hours and hours as Benny cares for him and cherishes him and tells him he's loved over and over again.

"I don't feel like I'm enough for you right now. But I feel like someday soon, I'll know I am."