"Okay," Dean grunts, spreading his legs for the man kneeling between them, and tongues at the word he's been given. It's different than the word he'd chosen on his first night here, simpler, and Dean wonders if he'll see need to use it. Still standing on the brink of things, Dean doubts it, but below him Mike is fixing him immobile.

He's been in them before, but still Dean tests the restraints, hands flexing around their hold, pulling. He's locked in tight, with no way out again but red.

He exhales, forcing his breaths to come steady and deep.