Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6848632.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Dom/sub, Established_Relationship, Sub_Sam, Dom_Dean, Cock_Cages, Praise
      Kink, Prostate_Milking, Rimming, Aftercare
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-14 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 8357
****** Captive ******
by castielsstarr
Summary
     Sam and Dean are left alone in the motel room for a few days while
     John goes on a hunt alone. It’s weird that he doesn’t take Dean with
     him this time, but Dean is not about to look a gift horse in the
     mouth. Sam is compliant with Dean’s wishes, generally, but has been
     increasingly needy recently and Dean needs to get him under control.
     He tried to palm Dean’s cock through his jeans the other day while
     Dad was in the front seat of the Impala. Needy was great, but it just
     couldn’t be in front of their father. Sam needs some help to
     understand why that behavior can’t continue.
     Sam is 16.
Notes
     This was written for the Supernatural Kink Big Bang 2016!
     Big thanks to both my beta thedropoutandthejunkie and my artist the-
     grace-of-fallen-angels! The awesome cover page for this story can be
     found here! I love it so much!
***** Chapter 1 *****
“I left you some food things in the fridge and then there’s stuff for PB&J’s if
you want that. Should be enough to last you while I’m gone.” John spoke to both
of his boys as he continued to pack his supplies into the two bags spread wide.
“Dean, you can take my bed while I’m gone. Just don’t go messing up the sheets
or anything.” John got his own bed while Sam and Dean shared the other one,
lying on their separate sides, backs always touching.
They would never tell their father that they didn’t mind the sharing.
“Dean, I left you and your brother’s guns in the closet. You both know the
rules.” He glanced between them waiting for the boys to say the words he had
instilled in them on their first shooting lesson.
Simultaneously, they said, “Do not take the gun out unless you need to kill
something. Guns are not toys.”
His curt nod was affirmation that it was good enough for him. Two more sawed-
offs and a case full of salt rounds went into the second bag, and John’s pistol
got tucked into the waistband of his pants. Dean always wondered how he was
able to drive around with that thing pressing into his back. It couldn’t have
been comfortable.
John zipped up both bags before tossing one over his shoulder, the other one
held tightly in his hand. “All right, you two. Stay here and don’t get into any
trouble. Dean, keep your brother safe.”
He nodded and shook his father’s hand. Sam stayed seated on their bed, eyes
fixed on the TV. At least he raised his hand in acknowledgement of his father’s
leaving. John dipped his head to his eldest once before leaving the room,
locking the door behind him.
Dean expected his brother to still be sitting on the bed when he turned around,
but the boy was right next to him. They were just about equal height, so it was
easy for Sam to duck his head just a little and start mouthing at Dean’s neck.
“Thought he would never leave,” he muttered against Dean’s warm skin.
He pushed Sam gently away and his little brother took on that hurt puppy look.
The one Dean knew he couldn’t resist, but he was going to try anyway. “What has
been up with you recently, huh?”
“What do you mean?” Sam reached for him again, but he was held back from
touching Dean.
“I mean, you’ve been too obvious around Dad. You know the rules we’ve set,
Sammy. We’ve gotta be careful.”
“I have been careful.” Sam whined.
“You tried to ride me while Dad was asleep in the front seat.”
The younger boy huffed. “Yeah, but I was being quiet.”
“It doesn’t matter. You know that we can’t take chances like that. Dad’s not
gonna understand this if we get caught. We’re likely to be as good as dead.”
He expected Sam’s face to fall, for his brother to give up the fight, but he
didn’t. Instead, Sam broke out of his hold by stepping back, but came toward
him again, body pressed tight to the older boy before he had a chance to get
his hands up.
“I just want to be with you. Don’t you want that too, big brother?” He batted
those long eyelashes they both got from their mother, but it didn’t help.
The kid just wasn’t getting it and Dean was frustrated in more ways than one.
“Sam—” He took hold of both of his brother’s wrists and shook him once. “I told
you to stop and you’re resisting a direct order.”
“I know, it’s just—”
“We've talked about this before. Do you remember what it means?”
That got Sam to pause, but not for long. “You’ll need to punish me?” He damn
near purred and it only agitated Dean further. He was usually understanding and
compliant, making this behavior completely abnormal for him.
“If you don’t stop, yeah. I’ll have to punish you.”
His little brother hesitated, and in those moments, Dean could see the kid’s
face morph into something that was going to mean trouble for them both. It was
a devilish smirk, one he had never seen before, and it roused that tightness
low in his belly.
Sam leaned in just the slightest bit and murmured under his breath, “Then
punish me.” The quirked smile was almost a sneer, and Dean wanted to suck and
bite at those lips until that look was gone. That’s when the reality of the
situation took hold.
With John gone for for next few days, he could punish Sam for his bratty
behavior.
Clearly, Sam was asking for it—which wasn’t the first time—but he couldn’t have
known the new thing that Dean had picked up for them in the last town. He would
be expecting his normal—a harsh spanking drawn out over the course of a few
hours, giving him time for his skin to cool and the bruises to rise before
reddening his ass all over again. After the boy came the last time from just
Dean swatting his heated skin, he knew that he would have to come up with
another form of punishment.
He took Sam’s wrist again, a little rougher than necessary, but it wasn’t
harsh. His little brother chuckled under his breath as he was pulled toward the
bed behind Dean, where he sat down on the edge before freeing only one wrist.
With his thighs spread apart just a little, it was obvious that he was going to
drag Sam down over them and beat his ass. At least, that’s what the 16-year-old
was supposed to think.
“No, please don’t spank me, I’ll do anything,” Sam mock begged, as Dean reached
over to where his bag was resting slightly open near him.
“I’m sorry, you give me no choice but to punish you. Take off your pants, leave
the shirt for now.” Dean didn’t release his right hand, forcing him to strip
off his garments with one hand only. When he had stepped free of his clothing,
Dean gave a sharp tug to the wrist still in his hand. “Sit on my lap, facing
away from me.”
“W-what?” Sam pulled up short as he was moving to lean his torso over his older
brother’s legs.
“Did I fucking stutter?”
Sam’s manners started to kick in—about damn time—and he responded with a small,
“no, sir.” They had discussed from the beginning that Dean wasn’t going to
require Sam to always call him sir, but they had agreed that when the situation
seemed to call for it, then he should. Dean had caught him off guard, confusing
him, and allowing Dean to take that authority role.
He settled his ass lightly on Dean’s clothed thighs, unsure of what was coming.
The rustling of Dean fishing through his bag stopped and a pair of large,
calloused hands were pulling his knees apart, exposing him fully. His cock had
softened most of the way when he wasn’t laid out like he thought. He knew the
kid wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Dean’s hands moved around the front of Sam’s body and he finally caught sight
of what Dean was digging for. In one hand he held a relatively small, seamless
metal ring and in the other... oh, god.
"Do you know what this is, Sammy?"
He stuttered at first, but eventually found the words, his mouth suddenly
sandpaper. "C-cock cage."
"Exactly." Dean nibbled at the meat of Sam's shoulder, causing the boy to
shiver. "Now, you know that I would never make you do something you didn't want
to, but if you decided to wear this as your punishment, it would make me very
happy."
Sam was becoming acutely aware of the closeness of Dean's hands to his cock,
both of them resting palms up on his bare skin. It started to harden without
further provocation. Was it messed up how badly he actually wanted that thing
fastened around him? It should have frightened him, the idea of having his dick
completely trapped, but he just wanted it. "Dean, I—"
"You have two choices for your punishment, if you choose to let me do this."
Dean shifted the metal ring to his left hand and moved his right between his
little brother's legs to massage his balls. "You can choose to wear this either
for just one day or for the whole time Dad is gone."
"Why would I..." Sam trailed off on a soft moan before continuing. "Want to
wear it longer than just the one day?"
Dean rubbed his palm over Sam's hardened length, causing the boy’s hips to jump
toward the contact. He leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of Sam's ear
and whispered, "because there is a treat if you can last that long. And, Sammy,
I think you're really gonna like it."
His older brother's fist wrapped loosely around his dick, gently stroking it.
It was infuriatingly slow—made Sam want to buck his hips up into it and use his
own hands to wrap Dean's tighter around him.
"You don't have to decide that now, though. I'll ask you tomorrow and you can
make your decision then. The only thing you have to decide now is if you are
going to do this for me."
Sam nodded his head furiously. Yes, god, he wanted to do this. It didn’t feel
like it would actually be a punishment like Dean kept saying it would. Sure, he
wouldn’t be able to get hard while he had it on, and it might hurt a little if
he tried, but the pain wasn’t a big deal.
Dean wrapped his fingers tighter and stroked Sam roughly for a few seconds
before easing up again.
"I need you to use your words, baby boy. I'm not going to do this until I have
absolute confirmation that you're ok with it."
"Fuck, Dean, yes, ok? Yes, I want you to trap my dick in that cage, please."
Dean couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up at Sam's desperation for it.
"Good, that's real good. Now, you know you've gotta be soft for me to put this
on you safely, so I'm going to let you come now, but as soon as you're done and
we clean you up, this goes on. Again, do you want this?"
Sam was bucking into Dean's fist as it worked harder, sliding over the head of
his cock, slick with his precome. He was so wet just from the idea of that
metal containing him; it was making his breath come in short pants. "I need
this."
It surprised him that he actually did. This wasn't a simple desire. He wanted
so much to please Dean, but this wasn't entirely about that. Sam wanted to know
what it felt like to be well and truly not in control. He wanted to be owned.
He wanted to be Dean's.
A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck followed by a few nibbles. Dean
couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten with Sam. The boy didn't even know
what was in store for him with this cage, but he was beyond willing to take it.
"You're so good for me."
"Can I… can I come in your mouth?" He swallowed thickly and tacked on a soft,
"Please, sir," for good measure. The boy always did try everything to get what
he wanted.
"No, sweetheart, not right now. It wouldn't be a punishment if I gave in to you
so easily, would it?"
When Dean tightened his grasp more, now just on this side of painful, Sam
gasped out, "N-no."
"You'll come like this, then." Dean nudged his own knees wider, pulling Sam's
open more with the motion. "I want to see you spill white all over the carpet,
Sam. Can you do that for me? Don't feel guilty about it, I'll clean it up." His
hand slowed for a couple moments, allowing Dean to run the pad of his finger
directly over Sam's slit, causing the kid to moan loud.
"Dean, god, Dean."
"You always have been sensitive." Sam whined as Dean continued the motion, skin
pressing just inside the tip, making him cry out. Another peppering of kisses
over his shoulder and Dean returned to his previous pace. "Would you ever let
me use a sound on you?" he whispered against Sam's sweaty skin.
"What's a—oh, shit, shit—a sound?"
"God, you're so innocent still. It's hard to believe. I'll tell you when you're
older," he joked.
Sam was breathing hard, each exhale heavy with a hidden whine underneath.
"Dean, I'm—god, fuck."
Dean didn't even need to tell him that he had permission or that he should
come; Sam just let go and he came over the blue carpeting. His other arm
wrapped around Sam's waist, holding him in place when he leaned forward, the
force of his orgasm tightening his abdominal muscles. The younger Winchester
didn't moan or scream, he just panted through it until he started to relax.
Hands rubbed over both of his thighs as he settled. "You're perfect, Sammy. Did
that feel good?"
The boy nodded and shivered, muttering a soft, "uh-huh."
"You're gonna be glad for it. You're going to be stuck in this for a while at
least."
Another shiver.
"Can I put it on now?"
Sam swallowed, knowing what Dean needed. "Yes, sir."
The arm squeezed his waist once, a bastardization of a hug, before it released
him and Sam felt those strong hands touching him gently. Dean's thumb swiped
the last bead of come from the tip of his cock, before taking his balls in
hand.
He could feel the metal, slightly warmed from Dean's skin, as he slipped one of
his balls through it and then the other. A part of him wanted so badly to see
the process of Dean putting it on and locking it securely around him, and the
other part wanted to see the total effect for the first time when it was
already on. Sam also wasn't entirely sure that he was going to be able to keep
from getting hard again if he watched.
It was slightly uncomfortable the way Dean had to maneuver his dick to get it
through the small ring, but when it was nestled in place against his skin, it
felt impossibly good. The metal of the cage itself surrounded his dick and even
without seeing what it looked like being put on, he could feel himself starting
to chub up just the slightest bit. "Dean, hurry, please."
"It's ok, don't worry. I just need to put the lock on."
Sam heard the soft click of it fastening into place and Dean pulled his hands
away. "Is it...?"
"Yeah, it's all set. God, Sam," Dean tilted his hips up, letting his jean-clad
dick rub against his baby brother's ass. "You look so fucking good with that
thing on."
He had to look—had to see it for himself. When he looked down, he felt the
pressure grow around his cock as it tried to harden. "Oh, fuck."
"You trying to get hard in there?"
Sam just whined as the feeling started to edge toward uncomfortable, but that
didn't mean it actually hurt. It felt incredible. "Dean, I didn't know." He was
trying to regain a little bit of control and not sound like a dog having just
run around the block in the summer heat. "I didn't know what it was going to
feel like."
Dean was suddenly nervous. "Sam, do I need to take it off? You don't have to do
this if you don't want to." His hands started to reach for the lock and the
small keys.
He batted them away when they got close. "No, no, Dean. It's good. It's really
good. I just... holy fuck."
“Hey, language.” Sam turned to weakly punch him on the arm, making Dean laugh.
"Why don't we go watch TV for a while, hmm? Give you a chance to relax."
Sam nodded and climbed off of his thighs, careful to avoid the splatters of
come on the carpet in front of Dean's feet.
"If I was a mean older brother, I would make you lick that up," Dean's voice
carried over to him as he walked away.
If Dean had asked him to do that, Sam would have in a heartbeat. They both knew
that he was weak to the demands and wants of his older brother, never being
able to resist something he wanted, unless it was something that scared or
truly hurt Sam. However, it was very unlikely that he would be asked to do
anything like that in the first place. Dean always took care of him, knew what
was within his limits, and didn't push if it was something he knew Sam wouldn't
like.
Which was why putting this cage on was a no-brainer for both of them. Dean had
already known how badly Sam needed to not be in control of things. He wanted to
be taken care of however Dean saw fit.
Sam had already turned the TV on, flipped to a station with cartoons, and
settled in to watch before Dean flopped down on the couch beside him. It wasn’t
until then that Sam realized he was still only wearing his t-shirt and the
cage, no pants. He had completely softened by that point, but the feeling of
pressure came back as he was suddenly aware of the roughness of the fabric
beneath his bare ass. Sam would swear that he didn't whimper, but Dean
apparently heard one.
"You good?"
"Yeah, I, uh—I'm just going to go put some sweats on real quick."
He made to stand, but Dean caught his wrist. "Part of your punishment is that
you can't wear clothes, unless we have to go out somewhere. Meaning this—" He
pulled at the hem of Sam's shirt, drawing him closer again. "—is in violation
of that."
Dean released his wrist and Sam slid the shirt off over his head, allowing Dean
to see all of the naked glory that was his little brother. Even that gangly,
transitioning, teenager phase didn't make Sam seem unattractive. It just made
him better with his new-found height and the way his muscles were starting to
grow. Regardless of how grown up he was or how tall he got, he would always be
Dean's "little Sammy."
Sam dumped the shirt to the floor and sat back down next to Dean, closer this
time. His bare thigh was touching Dean's jeans just barely. As he shifted, it
rubbed against his skin, a feeling he already knew was good, but this time it
made him shiver. He never realized just how many sensations he encountered went
right to his cock until he didn't have control over it anymore.
"Are you cold, Sam?" Dean asked.
His mop of brown hair swung back and forth as he shook his head. "It's
nothing."
One of his brother's arms snaked over his shoulders, pulling him closer to his
side, his heat, and maybe that was it. Maybe Sam was just cold. But when the
fingertips of Dean's other hand brushed against the little hairs on the top of
his right thigh, he gasped and his knees instinctively spread apart.
"You're feeling a little extra sensitive to everything, aren't you?" There was
no cajoling tone to Dean's voice, just the desire to know that everything was
all right with Sam. Dean didn't stop touching him and as long as those fingers
lightly tracing infinity signs into his skin were still on him, he didn't think
he would be able to speak. "I did research before I bought one for us. There
were some people who said that it could make everything else feel like... so
much more.”
Sam nodded. That was definitely happening to him and he was trying to stay in
control of himself. He wasn't even really turned on after having just come not
five minutes ago, but any sensation at all seemed like it could be enough to
send him into a frenzy after a while. Fuck, he really needed to calm down and
find a way to distract himself from thinking about this. If he kept up like
this, there was no way that he'd even be able to last the rest of the day, let
alone the whole time their dad was gone.
"Can we lay down for a while. Together?" Sam gestured to the length of the
couch, which they knew they could fit on if they were spooned together. Sam was
always in front even though Dean gave him shit about that long hair getting in
his mouth. Dean liked the feeling of protecting Sam and Sam liked feeling safe,
so the position worked for them. "Just... can you only put your hands where I
want them to go?"
"Of course." Dean kicked his shoes off and started to lie down against the back
of the sofa.
Skinny fingers poked at his leg right above the knee. "Could you lose these?"
"To rough for you right now?"
Sam's face flushed with embarrassment, but he nodded.
"Don't worry, it's ok. It's a normal reaction."
Sam huffed in exasperation. "I just feel like I'm going to go crazy if I can't
calm down." His voice was small, fragile, agitated. He liked this a lot and
wanted to see if he could really stay in this contraption, unable to get an
erection.
Dean stood and unbuckled his jeans, pulling them off his hips and thighs,
letting them fall to the floor. He kept his boxers on, but the tent in the
front was painfully obvious. It made Sam gasp and instinctively lean toward it,
wanting so bad to take it in his mouth, but Dean laid a hand to his shoulder,
keeping him leaned back.
"I can take care of this later, ok? Right now, I just want to help you relax."
He maneuvered Sam out of the way, so that he could stretch his legs out behind
him.
The boy took a steadying breath before laying down in front of his brother. He
picked up each of Dean's hands in turn, placing them exactly where he wanted
them—his left laced underneath Sam's arm and pressed firm against his sternum,
and the right just above that, allowing Dean's upper arm to act as a pillow.
It took a few minutes, but he was able to feel himself relax. The pressure
around his cock was gone, but he knew that was only temporary before he found
something else to get him worked up. He could actually feel the metal, warmed
from his skin, encapsulating him and it was an odd sensation. With the metal
frame and the small padlock, there was more weight than he was used to between
his legs.
All of Sam's muscles were starting to go lax and that was when he realized he
was falling asleep. He was nudged awake by Dean patting his chest lightly and
then trying to worm his arms out of Sam's hold.
"Why don't we go get some sleep, ok? It's almost eleven."
Sam nodded and dragged himself over to the bed where he flopped down on his
side, facing inward where Dean always slept. He barely remembered Dean crawling
in beside him and pulling him into his arms.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sam woke with a start the next morning. It was a relatively normal way for him
to wake up—there was usually a noise that spooked him or sometimes he still had
the occasional wet dream and his orgasm would startle him awake. This time, he
wasn't so lucky.
Like an idiot, he hadn't anticipated morning wood and how that was going to
affect him while he was caged. Turns out, it wasn't entirely comfortable, but
worse than that was knowing that he couldn’t ease the need that was rolling in
his gut.
He gasped once and writhed, his brain starting to receive the signals of the
slight pain as pleasure. Sam still couldn't believe that his wiring was so
fucked up like that, but Dean said that it was normal for some people. The two
figured that because he liked being spanked until his ass was burning and raw
that he might be interested in this kind of pain as well. It was possible that
he wouldn't have enjoyed it, but so far, except for a few moments of
hesitation, he was.
Sam ached for contact—any kind. He squirmed again, bare ass feeling the rough
drag of the sheets in the motel room and his dick rutting against air. Wait,
Dean hadn't said that he wasn't allowed to touch himself, did he?
His brother was still sleeping peacefully beside him, chest rising and falling
steadily, as Sam brought his hand down to trace light fingertips across the
metal of the cage. His eyes never left Dean's face, exploring only by touch.
The metal was thick, not providing many spaces in between bars. He let one
finger drop into the spacing and rub against his flaccid dick. It twitched hard
within its confines and Sam whimpered at the small jab of pain keeping him from
getting hard, but still remained pleasurable. His eyes fell closed. It
shouldn't have felt this good, really shouldn't, but it did and it was going to
drive him insane.
A finger swiped at the small opening right at the tip that he didn't remember
was there, and Sam's hips bucked off the bed and he moaned. His own contact was
good, but having someone else touch him made it that much better.
"You're leaking quite a bit there, Sam." Dean's voice was rough from sleep, the
gravel not having cleared yet. It was Sam's favorite sound on Dean, besides the
moans right before he came. "Everything all right?"
Sam nodded and moved his hands up to rest on his belly, leaving his cock to
attempt relaxation. It wasn't going to be easy to keep his mind away from it,
but he needed to try or else he was going to work himself into a frenzy that
there was no way down from. "I-I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't ask permission if I
could touch it, I was just curious, an—"
"Sam, it's fine. I didn't tell you you couldn't play with it. But just as a
tip, it's probably not your smartest move."
"I realized." Sam gasped again as another pain/pleasure impulse shot through
him.
Dean was climbing out of bed when Sam relaxed again and turned to look for that
calming, sleepy face he loved. "C'mon, Sammy. Can't lay around in bed all day."
He frowned and glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside him. "Dude, it's
only eight."
"Yep, but we've got errands to run."
Errands. Errands meant putting on clothes and leaving the house. Errands meant
that…
"Does that mean we're taking this off for a while?"
The devilish smirk that played across Dean's face was answer enough. "Nope.
We're running errands and you get to keep that on."
Sam nodded, shrugged, and rolled out of bed. It was probably a good thing,
anyways. As soon as he got out of it, he'd likely be sporting a massive boner,
and that would get too much attention. He picked his jeans up from the floor
and tossed them on the bed before going over to his bag and pulling out a fresh
pair of boxers. He was getting ready to slide them on before a soft tutting
came from Dean.
"Ditch the boxers." He sidled up to his little brother and placed a hand on his
baby-faced cheek. Dean let him have one soft kiss before he pulled back only
enough to leave the faintest breathing room between them. "That way, if you end
up getting really wet for me, which I'm assuming you will—" He reached his hand
down and swiped away another bead of precome, causing Sam to shiver. "—then
everyone will know, not just you."
Oh, god. Dean was trying to kill him. He was going to have to stay so collected
and in control during the whole outing. However, he nodded his consent and
dropped the boxers back on top of his bag. Dean smiled and gave him another
quick peck before letting Sam move to put his jeans on.
The Impala was waiting for them once they finished getting ready. She turned
over easily and they rumbled their way out of the parking lot. Dean said they
were heading to the hardware store, then the grocery store and maybe some ice
cream afterwards. Sam was only half listening to his older brother's ramblings
because right now he was too distracted with the way that the car was
transferring its shaking energy to the metal cage.
Sam tried biting the inside of his mouth, his lips, but nothing held back the
inevitable moan. His head dropped to his chest and his right hand had a death
grip on the dashboard. "Dean, oh my god, the car rattling it’s—ahh." He was
trying to keep his cool and failing.
"It's acting like a vibrator."
Sam nodded and whined again.
"Tell me how it feels."
His breaths were a rushed intake and exhale. "It's all over, Dean. Anywhere
there's metal, it's going right through it. So much heat, right here." Sam took
his hand and stroked across the skin of his lower belly through his t-shirt.
His knuckles whitened as he pressed harder against his skin, wriggling in his
seat.
"What else? Focus, little brother."
"If I think about it, it just makes the cage tighter." Sam moaned as it did
just that, dick trying to swell more than it already was and being restrained.
He ground his teeth, bit the insides of his cheeks, all of the sounds kept
escaping him, though.
"What. Else." Dean gunned the car a little more, the speed increasing the rate
of vibration causing the gasp to be pulled from Sam's lungs.
"It's like someone's holding a vibrator to my balls. It's everywhere, Dean. Oh
god, god, god." He was bent over now, seatbelt removed and disregarded, leaning
his arms on the dashboard, legs spread as wide as they would go. The sounds
coming from his dropped-forward head were high and breathy, so close to being
either pain or wanting that he couldn't tell without being able to see Sam's
face.
Dean was about to ease up on the gas pedal, about to recommend they give Sam a
break, but he looked from the corner of his eye and saw the way that his baby
brother was rocking back and forth in the seat. Grinding, letting his ass arch
out and then tucking his hips forward. He was trying to fucking ride it.
Sam whimpered and then raised his face, turning it to Dean, never ceasing the
dirty, stuttering grind that wasn't going to get him anywhere. "It's so tight.
Can I touch it, please? Can I touch myself?"
"No, Sammy. Not now—you gotta wait for that.” He could have sworn he saw the
starts of tears in the corners of Sam's eyes, but the boy kept them back. “I
promise it'll be worth it when you get to come again."
"I only have to wait three days."
"Really, you only have to wait one," Dean countered.
Sam shot him a glare. "You said that there was a—ah, ohhh, fuck—a surprise if I
was able to wear it the whole time Dad was gone."
"I may be willing to negotiate that if you're good for me and do what I tell
you." Dean spun the wheel, pulled them into a parking lot and stopped the car.
He turned it off, the shaking and rattling of the old girl coming to a halt,
giving Sam a chance to catch his breath and focus.
When he looked up, he turned a confused look on Dean. "The motel?" They were
back in the same spot as when they had left. Sam wasn't able to tell how long
they had been gone; he had been too caught up in everything.
"I’m a bit of a dick to you sometimes, but I'm not a raging asshole, even
though you like to think I am. I wasn't going to really make you go out in
public like this. I had a feeling just the car ride was going to get you too
riled up to walk straight." He cut Baby’s engine and winked once at Sam before
hauling his own body out of the car.
Dean was right—what Sam did could hardly be considered walking. He stumbled his
way back to the door where Dean was already holding it open for him. Sam was
able to get over to the bed before flat out collapsing on it. His limbs seemed
heavy now that the feeling of metal digging into his skin was starting to die
down. It wasn’t a sense of relaxation, just a sense of dead weight.
"You good?" Dean asked before dropping his weight to the bed beside Sam. He was
stretched out next to him, head propped up on his hand just watching the way
Sam's body was settling.
"I... maybe?" He sighed and he thought he almost sank deeper into the mattress.
"I can't really move right now."
Dean's smirk caught his eye and he dropped his head over all the way to stare
at him. It wasn't the devilish smile that meant he was thinking of doing bad
things to Sam, but the one that meant he definitely had something on his mind.
"That's ok. Why don't you just lay back and relax for a while. I can take care
of you."
The weight shifted and then Dean was kneeling overtop of him, hands starting a
slow drag over his torso. Fingers started at his shoulders, pressing firmly
into the muscles there before moving along his arms. His palms and fingertips
kneaded the flesh of Sam's chest as he started shifting further down his body.
Massaging Sam like this was getting him a little worked up, but he could ignore
it well enough for the time being. His dick was still putting up a
fight—wanting to harden, wanting to come—but it wasn’t as pressing a need as
before.
He let his fingers dip below the hem of his little brother's shirt, causing the
boy to gasp. It only spurred Dean to pull the shirt up until it was shoved in
Sam's armpits. Leaning over, he placed soft, closed-mouth kisses over Sam's
chest, making the boy wriggle underneath him. "Shh, Sammy. Just relax, ok?"
"It's hard when you're touching me."
Dean's hand snaked down between Sam's legs to palm the metal cage. "It's
actually not, but I know what you mean."
Sam whined. "De, don't."
"Mmm, love when you call me that." The hand moved and flicked the button of
Sam's jeans open, pulling the zipper down right after. It wasn't long before he
was slowly working pants and boxers down Sam's thighs, off his legs.
The drag was torturous, Sam being able to feel every brush of fabric over the
hair on his legs. Each one was a tiny electric thrum throughout his entire body
and he grit his teeth to hold back the needing moan that was no doubt hiding in
his chest.
Hands ran over his legs a few times, touching the front of them, behind his
calves, over his knees, the backs of his thighs, everywhere. Sam sighed
shakily, knowing that he needed to try and stay calm, otherwise he would be
pulling his hair out with want.
Dean had other plans than just the massage as Sam soon found out, as his big
brother's hands grasped behind both knees and pulled his legs wide. He planted
both of Sam's feet on the bed, allowing him to see that little, pink furl of
muscle that he loved. It was already clenching for him, wanting to be filled
and Dean was prepared to help.
With hands on Sam's hips, he tugged him a little closer to the edge of the bed,
close enough that Dean could lean over from his position kneeled on the ground
and get his mouth on that smooth skin. He leaned in close and, without
touching, let his breath ghost along the skin of Sam's inner thighs, his
swollen balls, and right over his entrance.
He didn't hear the whine that Sam let out before his tongue gently traced a
circle around that tightness, but he heard the moan that came afterward. It was
breathy and high, even though Sam's voice had dropped a couple years earlier.
His moans had always been like this and Dean would be lying if he said he
hadn't gotten off on just the sound of them before.
Dean flattened his tongue and licked a broad stripe over his baby brother's
hole, making Sam arch from the bed. He ran it over that pink ring five more
times, hearing the way Sam moaned through every single one, unsure which side
of pleasure or pain he was on because of the cage. Sam knew what to do, though.
He would tell him if they needed to stop.
Clearly it wasn’t going to be a problem.
"Holy shit, please, Dean."
The attention stopped, allowing Sam to barely catch his breath. "What do you
need?"
The blush was creeping up Sam's neck and face, Dean could see that from here.
"Don't make me say it. It's embarrassing."
"Sammy, it's not embarrassing if it's something that makes you feel good. And
you already know that I'm more than willing to do anything for you." He ducked
his head and laid one more quick stripe over his brother's hole, Sam's hips
jerking down to meet his tongue. "Just tell me and I'll do it."
"I... I need... oh god." Sam looked down to see his brother between his legs,
tongue pointed and he could feel just the very tip nudging against him, wanting
to be let it. With an arm slung over his eyes, he was able to get the words out
without the image of Dean about to penetrate his asshole. "I need you to fuck
me with your tongue, lick inside of me, drive me crazy with it."
He almost choked on the last couple words as Dean did what he was asked to and
stuck his tongue as deep in Sam as he could go on the first push. The first few
strokes were quick and rough, shoving in gracelessly. Eventually, though, he
slowed, so that he was able to rub his tongue along the inside walls.
Dean always loved the way his baby brother tasted in here. Could lick and suck
at his sweet hole for a long time. Had done it for almost a whole hour once,
and it drove them so intensely crazy that they both came untouched.
Lips, only a little bit chewed up and rough, made contact with Sam's skin where
Dean's tongue was still thrusting inside of him. The brush as his tongue rubbed
languidly along his insides was making his thighs shake and his hips fuck
downwards. God, his brother was practically making out with his hole. He
couldn't stay still if he wanted to. Needed him deeper, needed more.
Of course, Dean noticed the change in his brother's behavior and pulled back
with a chuckle. He placed a smacking kiss to his right cheek before sitting up.
"Do you want me to keep going?"
Sam shook his head immediately and for a split second Dean thought it might
have been too much for him. He didn't want to cause any pain and that cage was
looking awfully tight. His little brother quickly assuaged his fears by moaning
and rolling his hips against the air. "More, please? Anything, just more."
"Anything?" Dean smirked and Sam nodded consent. "You're really going to like
this, I think." He grabbed the small bottle of lube from the nightstand and
slicked his fingers with it. Cold turned warm as he rubbed it between them
before circling lightly over Sam's spit-slicked rim.
He could see the way the muscle clenched around nothing, wanting to be filled,
and Dean continued the slow motion. Sam was writhing, trying to get Dean's
finger in just the right place to slip inside him, but Dean wouldn't give into
it.
"Fuck, stop teasing me," Sam whined. "You're going to kill me, you know?"
The laugh that bubbled out of Dean was clear in a way it hadn't been in a long
time. It was nice when their dad wasn't around and they could spend time
together. "You won't die from not getting a finger in your ass, Sammy.
However..." He slowly slid the digit all the way in, not waiting for Sam to
adjust. Dean knew that he was open enough that the one finger wasn't going to
hurt him.
Sam gasped loudly and pushed down on Dean's hand like maybe he could take him
deeper if he tried. "De, please. More, mo—ah, yes!"
Dean started nudging the second finger in beside the first, careful to give his
little brother the time to relax around him. He slowly thrust in the tiniest
bit more each time, twisting slightly, working him open just enough. Sam only
needed to be able to take his fingers right now, so he wasn't going to fully
stretch him like if he needed to take Dean’s cock.
The boy was panting and trying to keep himself from bucking too wildly, but he
was failing. But when Dean crooked his fingers just right and rubbed over his
prostate, he lost control of himself. He was writhing on his brother's fingers,
crying out, and the cage was so tight. The ring around the base and underneath
his balls was pressed into his skin as blood tried to rush and swell his cock.
He whimpered loudly, "De, De, fuck."
"You ok, baby brother?"
Another whine, but no answer.
“Sammy? Is it good or bad?” The lack of response made him nervous because he
didn’t want to actually cause Sam more pain than he could take. He eased the
rubbing against that spot inside of him, allowing Sam to think.
The boy’s chest was heaving as he sucked in quick breaths. “It’s g-good.
Fuckmegod, it’s really good.”
“What have I told you about cursing, hm?” Those fingers went back to work,
stroking quickly over Sam’s prostate, making him cry out.
“S-said I should—nnng—shouldn’t do it.”
Dean chuckled at the way the muscles in Sam’s abdomen fluttered as he leaned
over to place a soft kiss on skin that was starting to slick with sweat.
"That's exactly right. Now, I'll forgive you for it if you can come on my
fingers. Just like this."
Confusion and shock took hold of Sam's face as much as they could through the
feeling of blinding pleasure-pain. "But, I can't. The cage."
"You don't always have to be hard to come." His fingers were pressing and
rubbing fast over that place inside of Sam, building that burning need in his
lower belly.
It was making his head buzz with something still mostly unfamiliar—he’d only
experienced true subspace a handful of times before. It made him float, and Sam
was afraid he could get addicted to the feeling of it. A few particularly rough
thrusts of Dean's fingers had him almost screaming.
"There you go. Almost, baby boy. Know you're close."
"I—no, ah—I can't, I can't." Tears were probably dripping down his cheeks by
now, but he couldn't focus enough to figure out. Frankly, he didn’t care,
either.
Dean's fingers singled in on his prostate again, rubbing more insistently than
he had before, and Sam did scream that time. He still didn't come, even though
he had to be right on the edge. He could easily fix that. His other hand cupped
the boy's drawn-up sack and gently massaged his swollen testicles.
"Oh my god, nnghh, DEAN."
"I was right, huh? You gonna come for me?"
The little extra help was the right push and Sam's orgasm hit him hard. It was
like a flashbang grenade went off as his ears rang and his vision whited out.
Every muscle in his body went rigid and spasmed in time to the pulses of fluid
leaking from the tip of his flaccid dick. It didn't shoot out—not like it
normally did when he came this hard—but trickled in a steady stream down over
Dean's hand where it was still rolling his balls.
He didn't feel when his orgasm dulled or when Dean slowly pulled his fingers
from his loosened hole. He didn't feel the bed shifting as Dean laid down
beside him and pulled him close to his chest. He didn't feel the soft kisses
against his forehead, temple, and cheek. It wasn't until his brother spoke
again that he started to come back to his senses.
"Sammy? Hey, you ok?"
The older boy paused for an answer, and Sam honestly tried to give one, but he
wasn't sure his lips were attached to his face anymore. He wasn't even sure he
had a face. All he knew was that fuzziness.
"I really need you to respond, please? Give me anything." There was the
distinct sound of worry in Dean's voice and it wasn't something Sam liked. His
mouth might not have worked, but he was able to twitch the fingers on his right
hand in some bastardization of a wave. It hit something hard and, with his
vision just starting to clear, he couldn't really tell what it was.
A relieved sigh came from his side. "Good. That's good."
It took him another ten minutes before his eyesight came back and five after
that before he had some semblance of normal motor function. "Dean?"
Those green eyes fixed on him fast. "Yeah, buddy?"
"What in the fu—heck was that?"
The stuttered correction made him smile. "Told you. I knew you could do it."
"That was..." He wasn't sure what the right word was. It was one of the single
most incredible things he had ever felt before, but Sam wasn't sure it was
right to call pain "incredible." Was he fucked up in some way? What if he
wasn't going to like anything as much as he liked this? Would Dean—
"Hey, come back."
Sam shifted his head a little in a clearing shake. "I'm right here."
"No, you aren't. You were thinking way too loudly. Your forehead is all
scrunched up." He went to rub his fingers along the boy's brow to soften the
wrinkled lines, but realized it wasn't a good idea. One hand was covered in
lube and the other in salty come, so he dropped them both again.
“I’m ok.” Sam said with a sleepy smile. “I’m good. But, um… Can it come off?”
His voice was small, but he didn’t seem afraid. A little sad, maybe, but they
would discuss that later once Dean removed the cage.
“Yeah, of course. You did so well for me today. If you want to put it back on
later, I can do that, or we can just leave it off for a while, your call.” He
pulled the keys out of the front pocket of his jeans and popped the lock open.
Because the strength of his orgasm had worn him out, it was easy to slip the
cage off when Sam’s cock didn’t try to respond.
The boy was starting to shiver slightly and goosebumps appeared on his upper
arms. Instead of trying to get Sam to sit up and move so he could be under the
covers, Dean took the comforter from the other bed and draped it over top of
him, allowing the soft warmth to cushion him from both sides. “I’m gonna get
you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.” He waited until Sam nodded before
moving across the room to the kitchen.
He was still shivering when he got back, but it was starting to lessen visibly.
The water was room temperature, easy for his body to process. Sam rolled up
into half sitting to take a few sips of the water before he lay back down.
Dean curled up beside him, an arm wrapped around the boy’s waist, waiting to
see if the furrow in his brow would ease. When it didn’t, he had to ask. “You
did so well for me. Are you doing ok?”
“I failed. I didn’t even last a full day.”
Of course, that’s what the problem was. Sam thought he was a failure for asking
for it off, which was the farthest thing from the truth. “You did far better
than I did my first time.”
“You’ve worn one before?” The kid’s eyes were curious, a little more alert, but
still somewhat hazy. He was going to need to sleep soon.
“I would have never let you wear one if I hadn’t done it myself. I’d need to
know all of the possible outcomes before I made you do anything.” Dean pressed
a kiss to Sam’s temple. “I lasted all of thirty minutes with that thing. You
made it over twelve hours. You were incredible, baby boy.”
Sam smiled at the affection, but his face quickly twitched back to something
between annoyance and worry. “But you had wanted me to wear it for the whole
time.”
“It didn’t matter, I just picked something. Some people wear it longer than
that, some people less. But I told you, I wasn’t going to make you do anything
you didn’t want to, even if it was supposed to be a punishment.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Thanks, De.”
“No problem. Get some sleep now.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?”
Dean pulled his baby brother tighter to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter End Notes
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