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Chains form as Sam arrives, links chiming as they drop from the ceiling. With a thought Dean’s hanging from them, broken body knitting itself together at his brother’s whim.
“Like magic,” Sam whispers, words rebounding off the walls, off the ceiling and Dean flinches as they strike him. Sam wraps his brother’s legs around his waist, grips his hips, fucks him.
“Scream for me, Dean,” he breathes, words going out on a gentle tide and crashing back like a tsunami. Sam unleashes tendrils of power and gasps as Dean flails- his aria of agony the sweetest music Sam’s ever heard.