Dean had been really quiet that day, at the diner for lunch, in the car coming back to the bunker, and even now back at home. It was unusual for Dean to be so silent for so long. The most Sam had gotten out of him was a yes or no and a few grunts. There hadn't even been any obnoxious singing in the car. Sam was worried. He was trying to give his brother time to work through whatever it was, but it was difficult to ignore.
Sam had parked himself at one of the big tables with some books and his laptop, updating the archive on new information they'd gathered from this last hunt. Dean had gone to his room as soon as they'd gotten home and disappeared. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Sam to tell himself not to go check on his brother.
After another twenty minutes of forced focus on his project, Sam looked up from his computer screen and was startled to find Dean standing in the entry picking at his thumbnail. "Dean?"
His brother simply stared at his hands, his feet shuffling under him. Sam could tell he was nervous, but about what he didn't know. Shutting the laptop, Sam turned in his chair. "Dean, what's–"
"Remember when you were nervous to ask me something and I was totally on board, but you were nervous anyway and wouldn't look at me?" Sam's brows shot up at the rushed words and before he could answer, Dean continued. "There's something I wanna try and I don't want you to say yes if it weirds you out or you think it's a terrible idea, but I – I wanna – I wanna try…"
Dean had yet to lift his gaze from his hands and his voice kept getting quieter until Sam couldn't hear anything but the low rumble of his voice. Aside from the almost senseless rambling, and Dean didn't ramble, what really caught Sam's attention was the lobster red hue coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His brother seemed to be shrinking in on himself where he stood and Sam still didn't have any idea what Dean was saying.
"Dean, what? What do you want?" Obviously Dean wanted to try something new in the bedroom – he'd gotten that much – but beyond that Dean wasn't making any sense. Dean's eyes shot up to find Sam's and darted away, his cheeks somehow flaming redder than before. Sam sighed, reminded of how insecure his brother could sometimes be. "Remember when I told you not to hide from me again? There's no judgment, nothing you can say that's wrong. Just tell me Dean."
Dean nodded at Sam's words and started picking even more vigorously at his nail. "You know when you went out the other night to get dinner?" He paused and Sam realized this time he was supposed to answer. He nodded, offering a gentle smile of encouragement. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's smile but continued in a grumble, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Well I turned on a porno – I was bored and it's been awhile since I looked –" he shrugged, "so anyway they were doing it and I can't get it outta my head. It's not like I wanna get beat, cause that's not sexy, but you being in control could be…and"
Sam was amazed at how much was just spilling from Dean's lips. His brother just didn't talk like this, but Sam had also never seen Dean so embarrassed. And somehow Dean had still managed to avoid what he was actually trying to say. Sam held out a hand. "Dean, c'mere man. I don't know what you're asking me for. They were doing what? What'd'ya mean you don't wanna get beat?"
Dean closed his eyes and turned his back to Sam. Sam stifled a sigh. "No, stop it, I just want to understand. What do you want to try?" Seeing that Dean wasn't going to come to his side, Sam stood and approached his brother, standing just behind his right shoulder. "Dean."
Sam watched Dean's back move to take in a deep breath and leaned in as Dean started speaking low, gravel underlining his tone as if talking to a monster on a hunt. "I want. You. To spank me." Sam blinked. It isn't something he'd thought about before, but that didn't mean it wasn't something he'd try, especially if it was something Dean wanted.
"Okay, sure Dean." He reached out for Dean's shoulder and turned him, stepping up to pull his brother into his arms. "You tried something you weren't sure about for me. Hell, you had one foot out the door. There's no reason we can't try this too. You overthink things so much. How long have you been worried about this?"
Dean was still tense in Sam's hold, but he seemed fractionally less anxiety-ridden than he had a minute earlier. "God, Dean." Sam rubbed Dean's nape and breathed a sigh of relief when Dean relaxed in his arms. Of course it wasn't long until Dean shrugged him off and left for a beer, but he wouldn't be Dean if he let the moment go on too long.
Sam shook his head and let Dean go. He had some research to do and there was no way he could do this without knowing more.
Sam spent the afternoon researching and at dinner he told Dean they would talk and try something that night. Dean flushed but nodded and had continued clearing the dishes.
Knowing his brother's comfort levels, Sam went to Dean's room to start. His brother was lying shirtless on his bed with headphones over his ears, eyes closed as the low hum of indiscernible music filtered into the room. Sam smiled. Dean was nothing if not predictable. Music soothed him and Sam wasn't the least bit surprised to find him like that.
There wasn't anything else to do but talk to Dean, so Sam cleared his throat to draw Dean's attention. Swallowing heavily, Dean sat up and turned the music off, pushing the device onto his nightstand without really looking. He was hesitantly meeting Sam's gaze, but there was an eagerness Sam could sense under the nerves.
"Hey," Dean greeted, the word catching in his throat.
"Hi," Sam nodded, smiling at his brother. He approached and sat on the bed, one leg curled under him. "There're a few things we need to talk about first." Dean's eyes widened fractionally, his jaw clenching, obviously horrified. Sam snickered. "Nothing too scary, but we need to be smart about this. I know you want me to be in control. I know you want me to spank you. Would you prefer my hand or something else?"
Sam would swear Dean stopped breathing and then he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, eyes falling to the mattress. "You don't pull any punches, huh?" He was clearly uncomfortable and Sam hated to put him in that situation, but this discussion was a necessary evil.
"Dean," he censured.
With a deep inhale, Dean answered. "Hand." He closed his eyes. "God, this is humiliating."
"It's not. I need to know what you're imagining, what you need, or this whole thing is pointless. Now that I know you want my hand, I need to know if you want to have your boxers on or off."
Dean groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I take it back," he mumbled, "I don't want to do this."
Sam rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "Stop being ridiculous. I assume you want them off. Correct me if I'm wrong." He waited, but Dean stayed silent. Sam smirked. That's what he'd thought.
"One last thing. We'll gauge how hard you want it to be as we go, but I want you to have a safe word for this. We should have had one in place already with a couple of the things we've tried, but from now on we will. If anything we do gets to be too much and you need things to instantly stop, you say your safe word. What word do you want to use?"
"I don't see why 'stop' won't work," Dean grumbled.
"Because 'stop' is often used without any severity in situations like this. If you told me to stop, it's not that I wouldn't, but I'm more likely to think the word is a reflex reaction to initial discomfort than a true plea to stop. I want to know with absolute certainty when you need something to end."
Clearly uncomfortable still, Dean nodded, but looked to be thinking. "Fine. What kind of word is this supposed to be?"
Pleased that Dean was cooperating, Sam explained. "The word can be literally anything you want, but it needs to be something fairly simple and something you would never possibly say when we're together like this."
Dean considered for a long moment and finally nodded, looking at Sam. "Poughkeepsie"
"Poughkeepsie," Sam repeated, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth. Drop everything and run. It was appropriate. "Good."
Steeling himself for what would come next, Sam squared his shoulders. "Up."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Get up." For a long moment Dean simply stared back at Sam, and then with a shaky breath, he stood. "Good," Sam praised, settling into a more solid position on the bed, both feet resting on the floor this time. Reaching out, Sam thumbed open the button on his brother's jeans and then gripped Dean's wrist, tugging him forward to lie across his lap.
Dean went down awkwardly, stiff and unsure of his movements. As Sam pulled Dean further onto his lap, his brother's ass angled up over his right thigh, chest and forearms planted on the mattress beyond the left, Dean's cheeks flamed a brilliant shade of red, his body going rigid in Sam's hold.
Sam huffed a soft breath. His brother had asked for this, but was so embarrassed by his desire, Sam wasn't sure he'd even relax enough to enjoy it. He soothed a hand over Dean's back starting at his shoulders and trailing down to the waistband of his jeans and back up. Saying anything right now would likely blow up in his face, so Sam bit his tongue and simply reassured Dean with his touch.
After a few minutes, Dean's muscles gradually relaxed and his weight settled more firmly over Sam's thighs. "Good," Sam murmured, relieved.
With Dean pliant over his lap, Sam ran his hand down the backs of his legs and then reached around and underneath his hips to pull jeans and boxers over the swell of Dean's ass to rest at the top of his thighs. The less skin exposed, hopefully the more relaxed Dean would stay, at least this time around. For their first foray into spanking, Sam was nervous, but trying to keep Dean in a good frame of mind. Sometimes less exposure was the way to do that.
For another minute, Sam simply trailed his hand over the exposed skin of Dean's behind, acclimating Dean to his touch. His impatient brother gave a restless grunt and shifted in Sam's lap. Sam could tell the waiting was making him anxious and quite frankly it was making Sam anxious too.
He wasn't quite sure how or when to begin. Did he just start with a powerful swing? Did he start with more of a tap? How hard was too hard? This is what his research had been for, but while it had informed him about some things, nothing could really prepare him for this moment.
It took another few even breaths before Sam gained the courage to begin and then clenching his jaw, Sam retracted his hand and let it fly in a firm swing that connected with a ringing clap. Dean jerked in his lap, but settled quickly. Lifting his hand, Sam swung again with equal power, this time connecting with the other cheek. Dean flinched from the hit, but again settled with relative ease.
Sam raised his hand again and without letting himself think, rained down a series of slaps that echoed in the room and left his palm stinging. There was a glowing pink splotch forming on each cheek and after admiring his work for a long moment – the sight was strangely intoxicating – Sam changed his angle and again let his hand go to work, this time situated to hit the more sensitive sit spot. "So amazing for me," he murmured, barely more than a whisper. Dean shivered at the praise.
Every few swats Sam changed the power behind the swing, alternating between lighter stinging strikes and harder more aching ones. Dean squirmed, seeming to both push into and pull away from the blows, his cock hard and pressing against Sam's thigh with the movement. Dean muffled his groans at each hit, shoulders tense and head bowed.
Again Sam switched it up, swatting in a random pattern across both cheeks. One particularly hard series of swats had Dean's breath hitching in his throat, his ass turning a more vibrant shade of red. It was strangely exhilarating to take part in this, to render his brother helpless and needy, to find yet another way to make Dean crazy. Where before Sam hadn't quite understood the allure of power dynamics like this between couples, this was enlightening. He was finding an all-new side to himself and to Dean. "Incredible. Doing so good."
As Sam altered his rhythm, pausing at inconsistent intervals, Dean couldn't stifle a groan. His hips wriggled in Sam's lap and as his ass grew more sensitive, his movements grew increasingly erratic. Sam returned to a quick, unforgiving pace, his hand connecting with Dean's ass in quick harsh smacks. His palm was aching, but Sam wasn't finished. As he continued the rapid slaps to Dean's heated skin, his brother writhed in Sam's hold and spread his legs in an instinctive effort to move his ass out of the line of fire.
On the next hit, Sam's hand slapped down between Dean's cheeks and Dean shouted wordlessly into the room, his whole body tensing at the contact. Sam froze in place and pulled his hands completely free of Dean's body before, in a panic, Sam tried to pull Dean up and turn him so Sam could see his face. "What happened? Oh dammit, Dean, are you okay?"
Dean went lax over Sam's thighs and groaned. "Again. Fuck, do it again." He moved his hips desperately against Sam's leg, his voice lined with gravel.
"What?" Panic laced Sam's tone, his hands still tentatively moving over Dean's body without really touching him.
"Fucking…do it…again," Dean panted, pointedly sliding his knees apart on the mattress and angling his spread ass up in the air.
It took a moment for Sam to catch on, but eventually he got it, his eyebrows lifting in surprise even as he raised his hand, ready to strike. And then he released his hand and let a resounding smack fall once more between Dean's cheeks, right across his hole. Dean's back arched and he groaned loudly, his fingers curling into the comforter under him.
Holy fuck, that was hot. Sam couldn't believe how much Dean liked his hole being spanked. It had been insane how much Dean seemed to be getting off on the spanking before, but now…it was like Dean's nerves had been attached to a live wire. He supposed it made sense, considering how sensitive Dean's hole was, how much he got off on Sam playing there.
Not wanting to break the moment but wanting to try something a little different, Sam spoke softly. "Lift up for a minute, Dean." Slowly, Dean pushed himself to his hands, turning a questioning look on Sam.
Sam gave him a reassuring smile and slid from underneath the bridge of Dean's body, aligning his back with the headboard and spreading his legs in a wide 'V'. "C'mere," he whispered, hand out for his brother. Dean awkwardly turned his body to face Sam, but stopped, unsure what Sam wanted him to do.
"Come lay between my legs, put your chest over my right." Breaths coming shorter, sounding anxious again, Dean shuffled forward and did as Sam instructed.
Taking a steadying breath, Sam took in the sight of his brother. Dean's stunning red behind was front and center between Sam's legs, his muscular back curved beautifully. Sam gently stroked over Dean's back and his sore ass, Dean's breaths getting shakier the longer he waited for Sam to start. Finally Sam rested his left hand on one cheek to calm his brother and raised his right only a short distance from Dean's skin. It wouldn't take much distance or even power behind the blows at this point to drive his brother over the edge.
With no further warning, Sam slapped down over Dean's hole with three fingers. Dean curled around Sam's thigh as tingles shot through his body, his ass flexing and lifting into the air after Sam's hand. Sam waited for Dean's hips to settle and then did it again, this time with more force. Dean whimpered as Sam's fingers connected with his rim.
Awed, Sam waited a long moment. Dean rocked his hips down into the mattress, needing the pressure and friction on his hard cock. Sam knew his brother was achingly hard, probably dripping. It was one of his favorite sights – Dean's cock rigid and purple, the tip flushed with blood, spilling pearled drops of his need. Sam swatted over one still flaming red cheek and Dean grunted, hips driving into the bed. "Feels good, huh. So needy."
Dean groaned. Smiling, Sam patted over his brother's sore ass and again struck his hole with the flat of his fingers. Only this time, he didn't pause or wait for Dean to settle, loving the gasp he received in reaction. Sam slapped over Dean's rim in short quick motions, intently focused on his newly imagined goal of making Dean come just like this.
Sam spanked Dean's hole over and over, his brother's sensitive center fluttering with every strike. It was enthralling to watch and Sam was finding it incredibly difficult to pull his eyes away even for a second. The intensity and pleasure had reached the point that Dean gasped and whimpered with every hit, so ready for more he simply laid there and took it.
Sam watched in awe, so turned on by what he saw that the more Dean took, the harder Sam became. He strained against his jeans, cock aching and sore in its confinement. Sam hardly cared. He was intent on seeing this through and giving Dean the best experience possible. This had already far outshined Sam's own expectations.
Holding Dean firmly in place, Sam laid a few hard hits over Dean's cheeks and then returned to his hole, his fingers striking repeatedly over the swollen red rim. Dean's breath hitched in his chest and on the next swat, harder than those before it, Dean's fingers twisted tightly into the sheets, his back tightening as a keening moan escaped his throat.
Sam stifled his own moan at the sound and continued with the harder blows, his fingers going numb at the repeated impact. Dean didn't seem able to stay still with the harder hits, his hips pushing back and grinding into the mattress in tandem with Sam's strikes. Sam rubbed soothingly over Dean's bare back. "So good for me, Dean. Think you can come like this? Just from my fingers spanking your pretty hole?"
"Oh, fuck," Dean whined, face twisted in a pained grimace. "Please, please, please. Oh, fuck, Sammy."
Sam grinned and slapped down again and again. Dean's hole was bright red and fluttering uncontrollably. Sam didn't think he'd last much longer.
Another few strikes and Sam was right. Even as Sam kept up the stinging slaps over Dean's hole, his brother's entire body tensed and then bucked, a sob escaping his lips as he came. "Ah, ah, fuck, please, Sammy, oh god, so good, oh FUCK!" Sam gave one final hard swat to Dean's rim and then rested his hands over the heated swell of his ass.
Dean released a wobbly breath, his body shaking with aftershocks. Sam simply held him and waited for his breaths to come easier.
When the trembling stopped, Sam trailed his fingers across Dean's back. Just like he wasn't sure how to start, Sam wasn't sure how to end this either. His brother was in a sort of daze and Sam himself was straining out of his jeans, but still he didn't feel compelled to move. Only when Dean groaned and shifted his weight did Sam remove his hands from Dean's body. "Feel okay?"
There was a beat of silence. And then, "You kiddin'? I feel…like…like 'm flyin'." Dean's voice was a graveled husk, slurred with the residual pleasure coursing through his body.
Sam chuckled. "I'm glad. It's gonna hurt soon though. Let's get some cream on you."
Dean hummed his agreement and pushed himself up to his hands and knees to shuffle backwards, groaning as his heated skin stretched. "Already aches. 'S a good ache though."
As Dean found a comfortable position on the bed, Sam slid to the edge and stood, discretely adjusting his hard-on. "I'll go find some cream. Be back in a minute." With all of the supplies they kept around for injuries, they were bound to have something to help.
When Sam found what he was looking for he re-entered Dean's room. He found his brother sprawled across the bed, glowing red ass like a neon sign in the center. Smiling a little smugly, Sam climbed up behind Dean and situated himself between his legs so he had easy access to Dean's behind.
Uncapping the tube, Sam squirted a generous portion into his palm and then smeared it between his hands before bringing them to Dean's skin. As the radiating heat of Dean's ass was covered in cool cream, Dean hissed and then sighed as some of the sting started to recede. "Can't believe I liked that so much," he muttered, the words broken by satisfied groans.
Sam considered that and shrugged, continuing to rub the cream into Dean's skin. There wasn't really anything to say to that. Sam didn't believe how much he enjoyed it either.
"My ass has never been so sore. Even after the first time you fucked me."
Sam snorted. "Idiot. Different kind of sore. You think it's something you'd do again?"
Dean grunted as Sam's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot and nodded into the pillow. "Hell yeah. Except next time we just jump right to step two."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, "You liked my hand on your ass, but my fingers on your hole had you soaring on a whole other level."
"Mmm," Dean moaned. His eyes fluttered and Sam wasn't surprised when he started to drift. Sam squeezed more cream into his hands and parted Dean's cheeks, spreading a thick layer over the raw skin there, Dean's hole fluttering under Sam's touch. He was tempted to slide his fingers inside, see how far he could push Dean over the edge, but he knew Dean was tapped out for the night. They'd never done anything like this before and Dean needed to rest and recover.
Making sure no skin was left unattended, Sam gave a final onceover and leaned in to press a kiss to the small of Dean's back. He was strangely proud of Dean.
He was also still insanely turned on. With Dean sleeping, Sam could finally take care of his own need. Unbuttoning and sliding his jeans down to his thighs, Sam's cock bobbed against his stomach. The head was swollen and purple, his tip already gathering pre-come. Taking in the sight of Dean's body, so strong but relaxed in sleep, his ass so red, Sam knew he wouldn't last long.
He curled his hand around his length and tugged, his hand dragging in quick tight streaks, twisting at the head, over and over until his balls drew up and the heat built in his abdomen. Sam's head dropped back and with a few more tugs his hips jerked, cock shooting over his hand and chest. Breathing heavily, Sam peered back down at Dean's body. His brother was still sleeping soundly.
Satisfied that he'd finally gotten to come and that he'd given Dean everything he'd wanted and more tonight, Sam cleaned up. As he climbed off the bed, Sam gently and carefully tugged Dean's jeans and boxers the rest of the way off. His brother would likely sleep through the rest of the night and Sam didn't want to leave him confined like that.
Sam went to Dean's closet and pulled out a light blanket, draping it over his brother's body to keep the chill out. He smoothed Dean's hair back from his forehead, kissed his temple, and turned out the lights as he backed out of the room. He'd check on Dean in a little while.