Beads of liquid run from Dean’s hairline to his clenched jaw, one drop following another in a slick stream. Sam’s mesmerized, eyes avidly tracing the moisture’s path. He grabs Dean’s head and licks the sweat from his face; pain and fear a delicious tang on the stubble rasping against his tongue. Sam grimaces and runs his hand over Dean’s cheeks
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*HUGS*
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"Oh, yeah, Sammy, undo that belt buckle and slide that sucker outta there." Mmmmmm. Maybe. Maybe just gonna make all the clothes vanish. Haven't decided yet!
Hot, oh yes.
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