TITLE: EXPERIMENTATION
SUMMARY: Dean experiments with his hands. Sam suffers. Not what you think.
RATING: T
DISCLAIMER- I own not. All innuendo is the product of a truly sick mind.
Their attempts at maintaining the perfect silence are shattered. A sharp cry echoes within the walls of their small hotel room, followed by louder, indignant shrills invading from the opposite side of the wall.
"Keep it down in there, you hoodlums! Some of us are trying to sleep".
A
'Dean...' Sam whimpers.
Expert hands pause in their skilful manipulation. Dean pauses to breathe in the sight his visibly shaken younger brother.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Head straining back against the headboard, Sam drags in a ragged breath. Concentration broken, Dean's eyes are instantly softer, infinitely patient. Sam doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
'No', Sam groans, answering more quickly than he intended, before straightening his face in determination, 'Don't stop'.
Practised hands resume their work on his lower body. The stagnancy of the hotel room is interrupted again by Sam's quickening breaths, groans that arch to the ceiling. The pressure is blinding, and his whimper is almost apologetic as his body begins to writhe involuntarily.
"I've just got to get...the right...angle..." Dean grunts in dissatisfaction, repositioning himself as Sam's pitch heightens in growing bursts of desperation.
Dean falls into a comfortable rhythm, soothing Sam gently in an attempt to accommodate him to the strange sensations shooting through his body. But the pressure is excruciating, and all the kid wants is the relief that only Dean can give to him.
"Seriously...Dean..." Sam pleads, voice keening as he breaks into a whinging pitch, "I can't take it...much longer...need you..."
His older brother is oblivious, working furiously.
"I got'cha Sammy. Yes...yes...yes! Right...there!"
With a sickening crunch and a mighty cry, the dislocated knee cap surrenders and pops back into place.
Collapsing into the bed in exhaustion, Sam peers through his sweat limp fringe sheepishly. The triumphant smirk that greeted him guaranteed his suffering was far from over.
"I wasn't that loud, was I?"
"Screaming my name like the little bitch you are" Dean grins, but the relief is reflected in his eyes, "Don't worry Samantha. You're not the first, and you won't be the last".
"Jerk!"