Since I'm probably not gonna be up when you open prompts, I'm sending mine in now (unless you already have which means this part of the message is totally pointless and ignore worthy). Wincest & Sensation Play [sense of touch, not necessarily pain; running a flogger gently across someone’s skin; alternating between something frozen then liquid like ice then champagne; feathers, silk, leather; nipple clamps; sensory deprivation - blindfold; things like that] & Season 3 or 4 (whichever you prefer)
“Do you trust me?” Dean murmurs, running his fingers across Sam’s hot cheek, just gently stroking the skin there. He pauses, pulling the blindfold down a little bit more, making sure it’s properly adjusted.
Sam’s tense - he doesn’t like not being able to see, but he does trust Dean. And besides that, at least he’s not bound. He has full range of his limbs. “Yeah,” he says, mouth dry. “It’s - I’m fine.”
Dean nods, and he knows that even though Sam can’t see it, he can probably feel it. He looks down Sam’s naked body, frowning hard at all the bruises there; at the marks others have dared to leave on his golden skin.
God, he wishes he could have been there for Sam. Wishes he could have stopped from getting involved with Ruby; but they’re here now, moving forward. Attempting to detox.
He leans forward and kisses that soft, supple mouth, slowly reaching onto the night-stand and pulling the ice-cube from the glass. He brushes it very slowly over Sam’s nipples, until they’re rosy and taut, and Sam’s breath is coming fast and short.
“Dean --” he moans softly, fingers tightening in the bed sheets. “That’s --”
“It’s not too much?”
“No.”
Dean presses him down, then, so he’s splayed on his back on the bed, and then grabs the next thing. He does it slow, dripping the hot wax across Sam’s chest, over his cold, peaked nipples.
Sam cries out, hips bucking, body arching towards the sensation. It’s like being outside in frozen weather, and then coming inside to the heat, the shock of it making your skin tingle. “U-Uh --” He’s sweating, groping around for Dean’s shoulder - something solid he can grab onto.
“You remember your safe-word, right?”
“Y-Yes --”
“Don’t be afraid to use it.” Dean presses the ice cube to Sam’s chest while tilting the wax immediately over the same area, pulling the ice away just as the wax drips across his skin.
“Dean!”