This was originally intended to be a bit more substantial, but I got this far and then never managed to get it moving again. However, I quite like it, so here 'tis (and
here's the fic it was supposed to be a coda for):
Dean's still sweet, even after his time downstairs--sweeter, perhaps, for having been so bruised. She'd expected him to shy from her, to smell the sulfur under her skin, but instead he opens himself to her, belly naked and pale and oh so soft beneath her fingernails. If anything, he's afraid of Sam--Sam's stated vendetta against Lilith, his potential condemnation, all the knife-sharp edges that came unsheathed in the absence of Dean.
Really, she could scarcely ask for a better setup--Sam thinking to use her as a tool in his revenge, Dean all but clinging to her as a shield against what Sam's become, Ruby in the middle playing both ends as hard as she can manage, both men twined around her little fingers.