Their first time after Dean gets back from hell is different.
They don't jump straight back into being together just like that. Things are... complicated. The trust between them is broken, shattered like a mirror that the pair of them feel hopeless to mend. Then there's Ruby, Sam's powers, Lilth, angels... everything seems to be going so fast that sex is the furthest thing from either of their minds.
But they've just pulled off a crappy hunt and are full of adrenaline and tension and relief that the other is ok, and Sam's not quite sure who initiates it first but Dean has him pressed against the wall as their mouths explore each other for the first time in months.
Sam's worried he tastes like demon blood, but if Dean notices he doesn't say a damn thing and before long they're on the bed with Sam pinned beneath the hard lines of his brothers body.
But then Dean takes his shirt off and Sam finds himself freezing up rigid.
His mind travels back to that night, the one where Dean's deal came due. When he was pinned against a wall powerless to stop a damn thing, damned to just watch as Dean got tore open and ripped apart mercilessly. There was so much blood. Blood that in any other situation would not have bothered him, but watching the crimson liquid splatter out of Dean while his brother screamed in agony? It was too much.
Was still too much. Was the source of 90 percent of Sam's nightmares of the last few months.
"Sammy? You with me?" Sam blinked, uncertain about how many times Dean had called out to him.
He forced a smile, nodding and trying to go in for another kiss, but Dean gently shoved him back down with his hands resting on his shoulders.
"What is it?" Dean asked.
"Nothing, just... can we keep going?" He squirmed slightly beneath Dean, hoping he could get some friction going and make his mind go back to sex.
It didn't work, and when Sam tried to pull Dean down by the front of his shirt to kiss him, his brother just lightly grasped his wrists to stop him.
"Settle down, ok? Just... talk to me, baby." It had been so long since Dean had called him that. It had been during their last hookup before Dean went to hell. That night that had felt far too short, spent entirely with Dean thrusting into Sam and whispering empty assurances, while he fought back the tears and held onto Dean like he was his lifeline.
Because he was. And when Dean died, it felt like part of him did too.
"Sammy, Sam hey..." he didn't know when the tears had started, but Dean was gently wiping them away as they fell, brow furrowed in concern.
"I... I... missed you. So bad. I never thought..." Sam was crying hard, his hands grasping at Dean just to feel him, because too often all of this just felt like a dream.
"Hey, hey. It's ok, I get it. I missed you too Sammy, missed us." Dean murmured, stroking a lock of hair away from Sam's eyes.
"I... I just saw you get torn apart like that and I... I couldn't do a damn thing Dean. I had to watch you get ripped to shreds and... and..." Sam was choked off by another sob, and Dean leaned in close so their foreheads rested together, kissing away a salty tear from Sam's cheek.
"C'mon Sam, look at me. Look-" he took Sam's hand, dragged it gently over his perfectly intact chest.
"I'm fine. I'm back and I'm fine, so stop worrying about all that. I'm never going to leave you again either, I promise." Dean said softly, before climbing off where he had been atop of Sam and lying beside him.
He tugged Sam in closer with arms circling around his waist, and he found himself melting against his older brothers chest.
He ended up drifting off to the feel of Dean's steady heartbeat against his cheek, a constant reminder that his brother was truly here and alive, and he slept better than he had in months.
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