Tangled Up In You
Dean/Jo/Sam

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.
Note: Title lyrics taken from "Collide" by Howie Day. Birthday fic written for quietrebel.

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Jo sleeps in the crook of Dean's arm, cheek against chest, arm around her back and hand resting on her waist, a subtle shout of mine. Sam's face rests against her neck, warm breath tickling her shoulder in the chilly morning air. She doesn't notice the cold, however; nestled between two Winchesters, arms draped around her body, she's pleasantly protected from anything the morning throws at her.

Sam's large hand is on her stomach, just below her breast. Dean always did share with his brother. It wasn't until recently, the first morning she woke up tangled between their bodies, actually, that she realized just how far that generosity reaches.

Sam's thumb starts moving in slow circles, leaving behind a tingling sensation when he moves to tuck her hair behind her ear. She feels his lips press against her jaw. Soft, smooth; such a contrast from the roughness of Dean's stubble.

His fingers ghost down her arm, brushing alongside her breast, continuing down her stomach. She sighs quietly, shifting a little, enough to make Dean stir. He always is the last to wake, and today would be no exception. Sam usually comes around first, starting off each morning by watching her sleep or playing with her hair or, as is the case this morning, getting her too damn aroused to care that she only got three hours of shut eye.

Sam slips his hand between her thighs, working his fingers through her folds, receiving a low moan of approval. Jo rolls so her back is against him, parting her legs. Twisting her head back, Sam's lips capture hers before she has a chance to open her eyes. Tongues meet and lazily play. Sam slips a finger into her hole, causing a low growl in her throat as she bites at his lip.

One finger easily becomes two and she bucks into his thrust, still gripping his lip between her teeth. He alternates between slow, teasing strokes and pumping her with more energy than anyone has a right to have at such an early hour. His thumb traces over her clit and it's enough to send her over the deep end, coming around his fingers with a sharp mewl against his mouth.

She falls back into the pillow with a tired, goofy grin that she must have picked up from Dean. Sam nudges his nose against her jaw and kisses along her neck, down to her shoulder. Dean rolls over and does the same, kissing his way to her lips. More forceful, rough but tinged with grogginess; a welcomed contrast to his brother's tenderness.

"Morning, babe." Dean's voice is gruff with sleep.

"Morning, princess," Jo shoots back, matching his tired tone.

For the first time in a long time, she finally found where she belongs.