The adrenaline of doing this is always a rush, but it subsides quickly, leaving the flesh beneath his skin humming. He doesn't need it, but it helps, and he doesn't take his gaze off Dean's face as the last of his clothing comes away.

Part of him is cool. Detached. Part of him is deeply, intensely present.

He holds out the two wrist cuffs - suspension cuffs, their chains inset with handles that can be gripped - and nods for Dean to slide his hands through.