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13 July 2014 @ 06:13 pm
Knockdown: Part 1  
Title: Knockdown
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Word Count: 24,700
Alternate Links: AO3 || SPNKink-Meme Prompt

Full List of Kinks and/or Warnings: [Spoiler (click to open)]Curse, white witches, anal sex, oral sex, first time, guided masturbation, voyeurism, roleplay (puppy play and age play), D/s, crossdressing, erotic spanking, humiliation, dirty talk, plugs/toys, talk of minors having sex (not explicitly described and it's consensual with other minors), talk of Dean teaching Sam about sex (no sexual contact when underage), uncut/foreskin play, rough sex, and minor character death.

Setting: No specific timeline. The readers can decide for themselves.

Summary: Fill for an Anonymous Prompt, click for full prompt. Sam and Dean aren't getting along. While working a case, Dean kills a witch, gets cursed to learn humility or die in a week. Sam tells Dean that if he wants to make it up to Sam, he'll do whatever Sam says/wants for a week. Sam might figure he'll just boss Dean around for a week, but the witch contacts him and tells him it's not enough, so Sam takes it up a notch and introduces a sexual element to it making Dean his sextoy. Kinks up to author as long as there's a certain element of humiliation involved to satisfy the curse.



Part 1


Sam's head was still spinning. He was pissed at Dean, pissed at the witch, pissed at the witch's girlfriend, and pissed at the hunter who told them about the case in the first place. The witch didn't need to die, and that's exactly what Larissa had said as she cursed Dean, screaming at him about how they were white witches, there was no reason for them to suspect her beloved Annie had been involved in the recent disappearances, and that even though she was still a white witch, Dean was going to find out exactly how much control she could have over her powers when she wasn't dealing with him.

“No, you don't get to drive,” Sam growled as he grabbed Dean by the neck and reached into his pocket, pulling the keys out.

“What the fuck?” Dean complained, scowling at Sam.

“She didn't need to die,” Sam said, glaring at him.

“Oh, not you too!” Dean said with a sigh.

“I told you it wasn't her,” Sam said, raising his voice.

“She was a witch, there have been reports of missing animals all over the neighborhood, and you think it wasn't her?” Dean asked, incredulous.

“Dean, did you happen to take a look at the names on the reports?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “Kind of.”

“And did you happen to notice that one of the reports was filed by a woman named Larissa Bennett?” Sam asked, using his bitchy voice, but he was trying to make a point, damn it.

“Oh,” Dean said with a frown.

“Yeah. Larissa's dog went missing three days ago,” Sam said, shaking his head. “And if you'd taken the time to look at the outside the house, which I was doing when you decided to gank her girlfriend, you'd have seen the very obvious tracks in the mud. A nokken is feeding on the local pets in between feeding on people.”

“She was a witch!” Dean said, arms out at his sides, like that was all the information Sam needed to realize she was evil.

“A. White. Witch,” Sam hissed, then turned and got into the car.

“Yeah, a white witch who cursed me,” Dean grumbled as he got into the car.

Sam took off so fast the tires squealed. “Because you killed her girlfriend.”

“Okay, look,” Dean said with a sigh. “You weren't in the house when it happened. She took me by surprise, came at me with a knife, and I reacted.”

“She thought you were an intruder,” Sam said, his speech clipped and short. “Would you have even talked with her, questioned her about the disappearances if she hadn't had a knife? Or would you have just ganked her as soon as you realized she was in the house?”

“I'm not going to answer that because you'll just get more pissed at me,” Dean said with a snort.

Sam took a cleansing breath, not responding as he tried to calm himself down. The drive back to the motel was quiet, but it was very tense. Sam got out, let himself into the room, headed for his laptop, and started researching the phrase Larissa had spoken. Well, more like screamed at Dean. He was concentrating so hard that he flinched when his phone rang. He turned to glare at Dean, thinking Dean was calling him to mess with him, but Dean was sitting on the bed watching TV.

“Hello?” Sam said into the phone.


“Larissa?” Sam said, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Yeah, it's me,” she said, sounding dejected. “I wanted to call you because I cursed your brother.”

Sam winced. “Yeah, you did. Look, I'm really sorry about what happened.”

“I know you are,” she said. “And that's why I wanted to call you. I'm not evil. I was upset, and I still am. He killed...,” she trailed off, sniffling.

“I know you're a white witch, and I know Anna was too,” Sam said softly.

She sniffled again. “Yeah, and I don't want you to think I'm going all dark or anything. I'm happy with the life I've chosen. And I wanted you to know what curse I put on Dean.”

“Oh,” Sam said, surprised. “Okay. Thank you!”

“I'm not going to take it back,” Larissa said firmly.

“Okay, I understand,” Sam said.

“Is he right there? Can he hear me?” she asked.

“No, he can't hear you, but I'll go outside anyway,” he said, standing up and heading out the door, closing it behind him. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Okay, you can't tell him how to break it,” Larissa said. “It's a humility curse. You have one week to teach your brother humility or he's going to die.”

“Die?” Sam blurted, then winced. Dean had killed her girlfriend.

“Yes,” she said. “I'm not a violent person, I don't want him to die, but if he doesn't learn this lesson, I'm scared he's going to hurt other people who really don't deserve it.”

Sam nodded. “Okay.”

“You can't tell him you know how to break the curse, you can't tell him I told you, and you have to find a way to teach him humility in a week or he'll die next week at the time I cursed him,” she said.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to do that.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I did. I'm not a bad person, Sam. I could've killed him when he was here. I have enough power to do that, and I hope the both of you realize that even when my fiance was lying dead at my feet, I didn't use my powers to kill him.”

“I know,” Sam said. “And I really appreciate you telling me about this. I know it's not my fault that she died, but I really am sorry, Larissa.”

“And you can make it up to me in your own way if you manage to break this curse,” she said. “My conscience is clear now that I've told you. His blood won't be on my hands. I'll never get her back, but if I can do something to make sure no one else has to suffer a loss like I just did, then she didn't die in vain.”

“Thank you, Larissa,” Sam said.

“Don't let me down, Sam,” she said.

“I won't,” he said, then pocketed his phone when the line went dead.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, pacing in front of the door. Humility. How the fuck was he supposed to teach Dean humility? Sam shook his head. Dean was sitting in there right now thinking he'd done a good job by killing a witch. Dean had always been stubborn at the most inopportune times.

He leaned against the wall of the motel, thinking over the situation. He couldn't tell Dean, but he had to find a way to make Dean listen to him, to want to do the things Sam asked of him. Amy Pond's face came to mind and he winced. Then he thought about what Dean had said, about how Anna had startled him, came at him with a knife. If he'd mentioned that, possibly he would've talked to her had she not been a threat. Maybe Dean did realize a witch wasn't automatically evil.

Sam snorted, shaking his head. Yeah, and maybe all the times Dean had grumbled about how much he hated witches, he was only joking. Not so much.

Okay, so he had a plan. He knew Dean's weaknesses, and while he normally didn't try to exploit them other than when he was being a shitty little brother, he could sure as Hell use it for this. He stomped back into the room, slamming the door behind him. Dean didn't take his eyes off the TV, so Sam snagged the controller from his hand and shut it off, then threw it into the corner.

Dean smirked up at him. “You'd like to discuss something, princess?” he asked.

“I'm done,” Sam said.

Dean huffed out a laugh. “With your phone call? Okay. Was that a good reason to throw the remote control?”

Sam shook his head. “I worked really hard at forgiving you for Amy,” he said, mentally patting himself on the back when Dean's eyes widened a little. “And I think I did a pretty good job of it. Or at least I thought I did. But after what you did today, I don't know if I can take this anymore.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean asked, his voice raising.

“I mean you went and did the same thing all over again,” Sam said, “and now you've left somebody else without their loved one because you're too stubborn to see that not everything and everyone is evil.”

“I know not everyone is evil,” Dean said with a frown. “She was a witch!”

“I'm not going to fight with you over this,” Sam said. “I can't continue hunting with you if I'm scared you're going to kill everybody we interview.”

Dean sat up straighter. “Sam, it–,” he started, but was cut off by Sam.

“No!” Sam barked. “I mean it. It doesn't matter what you say, how you try to explain away what you did. The fact is you did it, and I can't trust you.”

Sam saw the moment it hit Dean. His face turned a little white, his eyes widened even more, and he knew he saw fear there.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said softly.

“It's a little late for that,” Sam said with shrug.

Dean looked down at the bed, and Sam could tell Dean's head was spinning, just like Sam's had back at the house. It was a total shift in his world, and Sam was relieved to see that Dean could still experience that.

“There has to be something,” Dean said, still looking down at the bed.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Dean looked up at him. “There has to be something I can do to show you that I can be trusted. To show you that I'm not the monster you think I am right now.”

Sam let out a wry chuckle, hoping he wasn't pushing Dean too far. He didn't want to risk freaking Dean out enough to make him walk. “You really think you can do that?”

Dean shrugged. “I want a chance.”

Sam sighed, looking around the room as if he was deciding whether to let Dean have one more chance. He paused for effect, then nodded. “Okay. I'll give you one chance. But you've got to do everything I say.”

“What?!” Dean blurted. “You want me to be, what, your slave for a month or something?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I just want you to show me that you care enough about me, about the people that we're trying to save that you do everything I say for a week.”

Dean looked as if he was going to protest, but then his shoulders dropped and he sighed. “A week?” he asked.

Sam nodded. “A week.”

“Okay,” Dean said with a nod. “Anything. For one week. And if I can do that, I'll have earned back your trust?”

“The trust is going to take a while to earn back,” Sam said. “A week will get you a chance to show me you're willing to work at it and I'll keep hunting with you.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. I'll do it.”

Sam eased himself down onto the bed. “Let's start by you getting us dinner.”

Dean stood up. “Okay. What do you want?” he asked as he pulled out his wallet, checking to see how much cash he had.

“I'd like a burger and fries from that place on the corner,” Sam said, then grinned up at Dean. “And you're getting a chicken sandwich and an iced tea. No fries.”

Dean stared at Sam for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head. “Okay, if that's how you want to play this, I'll do it,” he said, then headed for the door. “I hope you don't expect me to eat my shitty sandwich with a smile on my face,” he grumbled as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He could do this. Dean might get really pissed at him in the process, but if Dean was still alive this time next week, it would all be worth it.


“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean asked, his voice sounding ridiculously high.

Sam shook his head. “No. Now get dressed. We've got places to go.”

Dean huffed, and Sam waited until his back was turned to smile. He packed his duffel as Dean shoved his jeans back into his duffel and angrily put his boots on, nearly breaking the shoelaces.

They walked out the front door, Sam fully dressed, Dean fully dressed minus his jeans. Sam had figured Dean would complain, but he confidently walked to the car, popped the trunk, threw his duffel in, closed the trunk, then got in the driver's seat, starting the car and turning on some music.


Dean stood in the doorway of their motel room that night, shaking his head, eyes wide as he stared at the lone king-sized bed. “You're an asshole.”

Sam huffed. “I'll let you use the blanket.”

Dean closed the door behind him and tossed his duffel bag into the corner. “You're too kind.”

“You know,” Sam said, turning around to pin Dean with a glare, “You're the one who asked for a chance, and you agreed to do whatever I asked for the next week. The attitude is getting old really fucking quickly.”

Dean sighed, then pulled the blanket off the bed, draping it on the floor and creating a little nest for himself. “All right, fine. I'll drop the attitude.”

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. He sat down on the end of the bed and waited for Dean to look at him. “Come over here,” he said, pointing to the carpet directly in front of him.

Dean opened his mouth as if to argue, but then he obeyed, standing in front of Sam, his body tense, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Get on your knees,” Sam said. “Good. Now I want you to apologize for the attitude you've displayed since last night.”

Dean's face turned a little pink, and Sam considered it a win, thinking Dean was embarrassed, and embarrassment led to being humbled, right? Then he saw Dean's clenched jaw and realized it was anger making Dean's face red.

“I'm sorry for acting like a little bitch,” Dean said.

Sam shook his head. “I don't believe you.”

“Sam! I said I was...,” he trailed off, then visibly worked at controlling himself. “I'm sorry I treated you like shit. You're right. I agreed to this, knowing you were going to push me. Otherwise why would you do it? I'll work on my attitude.”

Sam smiled. “That's better. Now go do our laundry.”

Dean nodded, breathing a little heavier than normal as he stood up. He grabbed Sam's duffel and pulled everything out, then did the same with his own duffel.

“Make sure it's all folded and put away before bed tonight,” Sam said.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, his voice a little rough.

“Don't forget the bag in the back of the car,” Sam said as Dean walked out the door.

His cell phone rang within minutes of Dean leaving, and when Sam looked at the name, he immediately answered.

“Larissa?” he said into the phone.

“Hey, Sam,” she said, sounding a little better than she did the other day.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm doing about as well as can be expected,” she said. “I called to see how it's going with Dean.”

Sam's chest tightened with emotion. “You really do care, don't you,” he said instead of asked.

She let out a little chuckle. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, it seems to be going okay,” Sam said, shrugging even though she couldn't see him.

“No, I mean what are you doing to teach him humility?” she asked.

“Oh, well, I told him I couldn't trust him anymore,” Sam said. “He kinda freaked, but he agreed to do whatever I say for the next week.”

“He doesn't suspect it's the curse?” she asked.

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I told him I researched the curse, that it was one of those curses that gives you a little bad luck for twenty-four hours, then I broke a bag of Cheetos over the back seat of the car. Dean thinks the Cheetos was the curse, and he complained about it, but he cleaned it up and thinks he's good.”

Larissa giggled. “Ingenious,” she said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah, but don't worry. I don't think he suspects a thing,” Sam said.

“Okay, cool,” she said. “Now tell me what you're making him do.”

“Mostly little things,” Sam said. “I made him eat a chicken sandwich for dinner, cereal and milk for breakfast, I made him drive around in his boxers. You know, stuff like that.”

“Oh, Sam,” Larissa said, sounding sad, “I don't think that's going to do it.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, feeling nervous.

“He's your brother,” she said. “Your older brother. I've got an older sister, and she's done things for me my whole life, whether I wanted her to or not because she thinks she's doing the right thing.”

“So?” Sam asked.

“Is he getting pissed or is he just going ahead and doing the things you ask him?”

“He's getting pissed,” Sam said.

“Okay, he's only doing these things because it's you,” she said. “He doesn't want to lose you, so he's following your orders, getting pissed because he'd rather not do them, but that's not what humility is.”

“Shit,” Sam hissed. “What do I do?”

“I don't know your brother all that well, but I know with my sister, it would take getting creative,” she said. “Older siblings sacrifice for their younger siblings most of the time. That's just the way their brains are wired unless they're really not all that close. You've got to come up with things that he normally wouldn't do for you. Things that he wouldn't normally associate as doing his brotherly duty.”

“Any ideas?” Sam asked.

Larissa sighed. “No. like I said, I really don't know you guys all that well. I could make a suggestion or two based on my sister, but I doubt Dean would feel humbled by going dancing at a club with me and not flirting with any of the guys while we were there.”

“That would humble your sister?” Sam asked.

“She doesn't think she can dance,” Larissa said. “She thinks it's very un-sexy, so her doing that in front of everyone at the club and not being able to flirt with guys in between dances would be a direct hit to her ego.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam said, wondering if the same thing would work on Dean.

“I doubt the same thing would work on your brother,” she said with a chuckle. “He can probably dance, and even if he can't, women probably would think it's adorable and he'd get a huge kick out of it.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, you're right.”

“You're a smart guy,” she said. “Work at it. I'm confident you'll come up with something.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

“No problem,” she said. “I'll check up on you again soon.”

“Okay, bye,” he said, then pocketed his phone.

Sam grabbed his laptop and opened a browser window. He typed in “how to teach humility” and started researching. He should've done that to begin with, but he'd been so sure ordering Dean to do mundane things would do the trick that he hadn't researched. He hoped he'd have some ideas by the time Dean got back from doing the laundry.


“Do you want me to get us dinner?” Dean asked after he put their clothes away.

“Actually, I want us to go to the grocery store and pick up a few things,” Sam said as he stood up, closing his laptop.

“Oh, okay,” Dean said, grabbing his keys.

A short time later they were standing in the kitchenware section of the local Walmart. Sam grabbed a hot plate and a couple of small pans. Dean gave him a funny look, but he didn't say anything. He handed Dean a piece of paper with some food stuffs to get, then said they'd meet up in fifteen minutes at the front register.

After Dean took off, Sam headed for the clothing, picking up a few things in Dean's size and one size too small, then he headed back over to kitchenware to grab a few things he hadn't wanted Dean to see. He had a plan. He didn't know if it would work, but he was going to give it a good try.

Sam paid for everything in the jewelry department, then headed up to the front registers in time to find Dean finishing up. They each took some bags and made their way to the car.

“What else did you get?” Dean asked, eyeing the bags of things Sam had purchased.

“Stuff,” Sam said, then grinned when Dean rolled his eyes.

Dean tried a few more times to get info out of him, but gave up as they pulled into the motel parking lot. They carried their bags into the room and Sam handed Dean the hot plate.

“I feel like having dinner in,” Sam said, then handed Dean one of the pans and the package of steaks Dean had picked out.

“Do I get any or should I just make one for you?” Dean asked.

Sam was so thrilled that Dean hadn't asked the question with any attitude that he forgot to answer the question. “Oh, yes, we're both having steak. Make both of them.”

“Cool,” Dean said with a smile, then started unboxing the hot plate.

Sam put away the things he'd purchased, some in the bottom drawer of the dresser, some of it in his duffel, and the last thing he set out on the bed. Dean wasn't paying attention to him, focused on making decent steak with just a hot plate, but it was obvious when Dean finally looked over at the bed.

“Uhm, something you wanna share with the rest of the class, Sammy?” Dean asked, eyes wide as he stood there with the pan in one hand, a fork in the other.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said with a nod as he pretended to be more interested in his laptop than Dean. “Change into that quick.”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep a straight face. “Change into that, then make us a dinner salad.”

Dean stood there frozen for a moment. Sam continued browsing on his laptop, but he really wasn't paying attention to it. He was waiting to see what Dean would do. Dean finally shook himself out of it, turned the hot plate off, set the pan down, then walked over to the end of the bed.

“So, like, over my clothes, right?” Dean asked, pointing at the piece of clothing like it would sneak up on him and bite if he didn't watch it closely.

“Nope,” Sam said, clicking to a new site. “That's all you're wearing.”

Sam glanced up at Dean, his stomach clenching when he saw the slightly worried expression on Dean's face. Was this too much? Did he push too far?

“Okay,” Dean said, his voice cracking as he started undressing.

Sam felt as if he was using all his willpower to keep his eyes on the laptop screen. Dean stripped down completely, then stood there staring at the piece of clothing for a moment, almost as if he was psyching himself up for it.

“Steak's going to get cold,” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah,” Dean said, then picked up the pink and white babydoll lingerie dress, slipping it over his head.

Sam had chosen carefully. It was soft cotton material instead of sheer, which would make Dean a little more comfortable, but the little pink flowers were very feminine. It had soft pink lace trim and a little pink bow between the breasts.

Dean walked over to the kitchenette and started making the salad, pulling down on the dress every few minutes as if he was worried it was riding up. Sam waited until Dean's back was to him, then he looked up, taking in the full effect while his brother couldn't see him gawking.

Sam's cock twitched, and he nearly gasped with surprise. Okay, that was unexpected. He'd never found crossdressing a turn-on before. He frowned, but couldn't look away. Every time Dean leaned forward, he could see the undercurve of his ass cheeks.

“It's ready, Sam,” Dean said.

Sam flinched, looking down at his laptop and hoping Dean wouldn't see the blush on his cheeks. “I'm starving,” Sam said, closing the laptop and heading to to the table. It wasn't until he sat down that he realized he had a semi. He glanced up, but Dean had his back to him. Sam breathed a sigh of relief that Dean hadn't seen the bulge in his jeans.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean said without turning around.


“Uhm, I need to tell you something,” he said.

“Okay,” Sam drawled, a frown on his face.

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “I don't know if you knew this about me and were trying to make this uncomfortable or you had no idea, but I'll assume you had no idea and let you in on the secret that your big brother gets a huge kick out of women's lingerie and panties.”

Sam snorted. “Who doesn't?” he asked with a grin.

Dean chuckled again. “No, I mean...,” he started, then sighed. “Wearing them. I get a kick out of wearing them,” he said, his head hanging low and his shoulders tense.

“Oh,” Sam said, not able to hide his surprise, then he chuckled. “If you're worried I'm going to be disgusted with you or something, don't be. I've got plenty of kinks myself.”

Dean snorted. “Well, it's not so much that as the fact that maybe you shouldn't look down when I serve you dinner. But I appreciate your tolerance.”

Sam chuckled. “We grew up in motel rooms. It's the not the first time I'll be seeing you hard.”

Dean sighed as he turned around, a plate in each hand. Sam glanced down, then hid his grin by clearing his throat and opening their new silverware. Sam bought four forks, four knives, and four spoons that were metal instead of their normal plastic sporks. Dean sat down quickly, and when Sam looked up, Dean's cheeks were pink-tinged.

Sam shook his head. “I never thought I'd see you blushing over something related to sex,” he commented.

Dean frowned at him as he took his knife and fork. “Explaining the birds and the bees to my little brother was one thing. A raging boner while I'm wearing the lingerie my little brother picked out for me is a completely different matter.”

Sam laughed, cutting into his steak. “This smells great,” he said, still smiling.

“I hope it tastes good,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I was a little distracted by the way this stupid thing brushed over my dick every time I moved.”

Sam snorted, then took a bite of the steak and moaned. “Dude, awesome,” he said.

“So I can cook good steak even when I'm getting the equivalent of a handjob from my pretty little dress,” Dean said with a smirk.

Sam almost choked on his steak. Dean continued smirking as Sam coughed, then took a sip of his beer. “You're paying for that,” Sam said with a grin when he finally got his breathing under control.

“Oh, don't tell me,” Dean said. “You bought the matching panties!” he said, then leaned forward and groaned, his eyes closing.

“You okay?” Sam asked, eyes wide. Then he noticed the blush on Dean's cheeks had spread to his neck. Sam laughed, leaning back in his chair and holding his stomach. “Seriously? I'll go back and get the matching panties if you want them that much,” he said, snorting with laughter.

“You're an asshole,” Dean said, shaking his head as he sat up straight again, going back to cutting his steak.

“Does it really hurt that much already?” Sam asked, nodding toward Dean's crotch.

“I got hard when I saw the thing,” Dean said with a wince, “then I got harder when you made me put it on. And that was before the thing ever touched my dick.”

Sam winced in sympathy. “So jerk off,” he said with a shrug.

“My steak will get cold,” Dean said with a pout.

Sam chuckled. “So eat your steak and jerk off at the same time.”

Dean snorted. “I'm not taking my steak into the bathroom.”

“No, Dean,” Sam said with a sigh, then smacked Dean's arm, getting his attention. With a completely straight face and a firm voice he said, “Eat your steak and jerk off.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, then his eyes widened. “You're serious?” he asked.

Sam frowned. “You said you'd do anything I told you to do. You backing out now?” he said, one eyebrow rising.

“No, I'm not backing out,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I just don't want to start doing it only to have you start laughing at me and say you were joking.”

“I'm not joking,” Sam said firmly.

“Uhm, okay,” Dean said, then speared a piece of steak with his fork in his left hand and reached down under the table with his right hand, all while looking at Sam.

Sam nodded his approval and went back to eating his salad and steak. He couldn't see what Dean was doing, but he could see Dean's right arm moving and he could hear the soft skin-on-skin sound of Dean jerking off.

“Keep eating,” Sam said, noticing that Dean had gotten too distracted, his fork in a tight fist sitting on the table.

Dean nodded and did as he was told, moaning as he put the steak in his mouth. Sam grinned, knowing Dean was using the steak as an excuse to make noise.

“Can you hand me a paper towel or something?” Dean asked, his voice deep with arousal.

Sam's own cock was hard enough to be painful in his jeans. He shook his head. “Use your pretty dress,” he said.

Dean dropped the fork onto the floor. “Oh, fuck!” he yelped, fumbling under the table.

Sam chuckled, knowing his words had triggered Dean's orgasm unexpectedly. There was a part of him that was hoping Dean hadn't pulled the dress down over his cock in time to catch his release.

Dean panted, looking sated and relaxed as he leaned back in the chair. He wiped at his cock, then sat there staring at his dinner plate.

“Can I wash up?” Dean asked, keeping his hands under the table.

Sam snorted. “That's pretty rude to leave me alone at the table.”

Dean's mouth opened and he let out a noise that Sam would tease him for later. Dean always insisted he never squeaked, but that was definitely a squeak.

“Wipe your hands off and finish your dinner,” Sam said.

Even though Dean was lethargic and happy from just getting off, he blushed as he wiped his hands off, taking time to get them as clean as possible before he reached for his beer and took a long drink.

“Better?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. My dick doesn't hurt anymore,” he said with a grin.

Sam chuckled, finishing his steak and washing it down with the last of his beer. “Thanks for cooking. That was delicious.”

Dean smiled, looking proud of himself. “You're welcome. It was pretty good.”

Sam was glad he'd done his research. Doing something you could be proud of that was also for someone else was something Sam would've thought promoted pride, and it could if someone thought they could do no wrong and were never called on their mistakes, but Sam considered it a success as phase one of his plan.

“I'm going to look for a hunt,” Sam announced, pushing his plate away. “Wash the dishes, clean up the table, then come to me and ask if you can have a shower.”

Dean's mouth opened, but Sam stood up, ignoring the shocked look on Dean's face. Dean didn't say anything, and Sam smiled as he walked over to the bed and sat down with his laptop.

Sam only paid partial attention to what he was reading. He was mostly watching Dean. He didn't know if Dean was more comfortable in the lingerie because he'd just jerked off under the table or because he knew Sam was okay with it, but whatever the reason, it warmed something inside Sam to see Dean cleaning up the kitchenette without pulling on the lingerie to cover himself or being careful when he raised his arms or bent at the waist.

The only problem was, Sam was still painfully hard. The glimpses of Dean's ass as he cleaned up, the way his already half-hard cock was tenting the front of the nightie, and the way Dean just seemed so at ease with it all was turning Sam on.

Sam clicked to a new site just as Dean finished and walked up to him. Sam looked up, a smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Can I take a shower?” Dean asked, his cheeks flushing just a little. He was trying for casual and nonchalant, but the blush was giving him away.

“Were you thinking of jerking off again in the shower?” Sam asked, glancing down at the noticeable tent in the fabric.

Dean chuckled. “Do I need to ask you for permission to do that too?”

“The answer's no, you can't,” Sam said. “Take a quick shower, put on a T-shirt and sleep pants, then come back out.”

Dean huffed. “Oh, come on!” he whined.

Sam shook his head. “Nope. Whine all you want. Answer's no.”

Dean sighed. “The last time I went to bed with a hard-on, I couldn't sleep. Do you want me to do something to earn it? I'll do something if you want me to.”

“I want you to take a shower, put on a T-shire, and –,” Sam started.

Dean cut him off. “All right, all right. I'm going,” he grumbled as he turned and walked into the bathroom.

“Leave the door open,” Sam yelled.

“Fuck you,” Dean mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Sam said.

“I said you're my favorite brother ever,” Dean yelled as he started the water.

“Last warning on the attitude, man,” Sam said.

Dean stepped into the doorway, the lingerie off and in his hand. “Warning? Are you going to start counting?” he asked with a grin.

Sam's eyebrow quirked up. “One,” he drawled.

Dean's eyes widened, then he turned around and got in the shower. Sam grinned as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock out. He leaned back against the wall, getting comfortable as he stroked himself.

He thought about the way Dean looked in the lingerie, not feeling even a twinge of guilt. Sam had always been able to put things in perspective like that. He wasn't hurting Dean by jerking off while thinking about him.

Other people might think he was some kind of freak for thinking about his brother like that, and at one time he worried he really was some kind of monster, but everything they'd been through had not only helped him to see here were bigger issues out there, it also reaffirmed his belief that the real problem with the world was when one person hurt another person just because they wanted to. Sam had no intention of hurting his brother, so a little harmless fantasy while jerking off was totally okay in his book.

Surprisingly enough, Jess had been a big influence for him on that very issue. After getting to Stanford, Sam had the bright idea to pretend he'd grown up in a normal family, a house like most other kids. Meeting Jess had only strengthened that resolve. She'd been so full of life, so normal that it made something inside Sam ache, longing for that.

And then one night he came home to find her masturbating in their bed. He'd been all for it, wanting to watch, and he'd asked her what she'd been thinking about. He'd been surprised when she'd told him her favorite fantasy about her older sister. They'd never gone farther than masturbating in front of each other and on a few occasions sharing a guy, but it rocked Sam's world.

Most guys would've been thrilled, would've been turned on and had a blast imagining all the kinky things their girlfriend and her sister might do together, and he was, but it was also an eye-opener. It was the first time he'd ever thought it possible someone else would get off on imagining their sibling doing naughty things.

Jess had laughed at him, told him that it might be taboo, but a surprising number of people just didn't care, and she was one of them, especially since she knew she'd never do anything to hurt her sister, and her sister would never hurt her.

Then Jess had fingered herself while Sam told her some of his fantasies. She came four times that night while he described them in detail. He'd come twice, once as he jerked off and once inside her after she'd come too many times to do much more than spread her legs and beg for his cock in her pussy.

So Sam had no problem with jerking off to the idea of his brother in a sexy little nightie, especially now that he knew Dean got off on it. He wondered if Dean liked other things, likes women's panties. He came hard, gasping as he imagined Dean in panties that matched the little nightie.

“That's not fair!” Dean whined as he came out of the bathroom in his T-shirt and sleep pants. “Why do you get to do that and I have to go to bed, or actually go to my blanket on the floor, with this?” he asked, pointing at his crotch, which was quite impressively tenting his sleep pants.

Sam chuckled, then licked his fingers clean. He grinned when Dean let out another squeak, staring at Sam's lips and fingers. “I didn't say you had to sleep that way. I told you getting off in the shower wasn't allowed.”

“Oh?” Dean asked, sounding intrigued and more than a little relieved.

Sam nodded. “If you can get off by humping that little bed you've made for yourself, then you get to come tonight. If not, you get to sleep with a hard-on.”

“You're evil,” Dean grumbled as he got down on his knees and crawled onto his makeshift bed.

“Hey, I'm giving you a chance to come,” Sam said, putting his laptop on the bedside table. “You should probably stop complaining.”

“I've never been able to come just from dry humping something,” Dean said with a pout, on his hands and knees and looking up at Sam like Sam might change his mind.

Sam shrugged. “Well, then you can sleep with a hard-on,” he said, then turned the light off and scooted down, resting his head on the pillow. He turned on his side so he could see Dean, hoping Dean would think he had his eyes closed.

“I'm going to get rug burn on my dick,” Dean mumbled.

Sam's cock twitched as Dean pulled his sleep pants down to just under his ass, then put his pillow down in front of him, lowering himself down onto it and putting his hard cock between the blanket and the pillow. Sam couldn't have had a better vantage point if he'd told Dean exactly how to position himself. Dean's head was toward the end of Sam's bed, and since he was stretched out between the bed and the wall, Sam could watch Dean's ass as he thrust his hips against the pillow.

It wasn't until Dean moaned, having already humped the pillow for a few minutes, that Sam suspected Dean may have positioned himself like that purposely. Sam's stomach clenched and his cock twitched so hard he couldn't ignore it. He slowly reached down, pushing his hand into his sleep pants and wrapping his fingers around his cock.

“Sam,” Dean whined.

Sam flinched, eyes widening as he figured he'd been caught. “Yeah?”

“I can't get off like this,” Dean complained. “I'm trying, but I need something.”

“What do you need, you big baby?” Sam teased. “Fuck your pillow.”

Dean huffed. “What do you think I'm doing?” he grumbled, sounding frustrated. He pulled himself back up to his hands and knees with a grunt, then sat on his heels.

“You seriously can't come?” Sam asked.

“You're seriously going to be a dick about this?” Dean hissed. “I can't believe you're giving me a hard time about this.”

Sam sat up, putting his feet down on the floor, then he reached out and grabbed Dean, one hand on his left arm, the other arm wrapping around Dean's chest, then he pulled Dean up and over his lap face down.

“I warned you about the attitude,” Sam said, then smacked Dean's ass.

Dean froze. “Did you just hit me?” he asked.

Sam smacked him again, this time on the other ass cheek. “Yup.”

Dean shivered. “Knock it off,” he said, but his voice was breathy.

Sam smirked, then smacked Dean again. “Nope. I warned you. You decided to keep mouthing off. Now you're getting a spanking,” he said, punctuating each of his sentences with a smack, barely able to suppress a chuckle as Dean's cock poked into his leg.

“Let me up,” Dean whispered, though he didn't try to get away.

Sam's left hand was resting in the middle of Dean's back, but other than that gentle touch, he wasn't holding Dean down by any means whatsoever. Sam ran his fingers over Dean's heated skin, then did it again when he realized Dean was holding his breath.

“Sam,” Dean said softly.

“Yeah, Dean?” he replied, then smacked Dean's ass even harder.

Dean yelped, his hips bucking and his cock sliding against Sam's leg. It was obvious he was leaking, and when Sam smacked him again, right in the middle of his ass, knowing full well Dean would feel it in his prostate, Dean whimpered.

“Dean,” Sam said, smacking Dean again.

“Yeah?” Dean replied, breathing heavily.

“Ask for it,” Sam said.

“Huh?” Dean said, sounding so confused that Sam smiled.

“Ask me to make you come by spanking your ass,” Sam said.

Sam felt Dean's cock twitch against his leg as Dean moaned. He grinned, running his fingers over Dean's skin.

“Spank me,” Dean whispered.

Sam chuckled. “Now, come on. That was weak, man,” he said, then smacked Dean's leg.

“Please,” Dean added.

Sam snorted. “If you don't ask, I'm going to shove you off my lap, get back into bed, and leave you to hump your pillow.”

Dean covered his face with his hands for a moment, and Sam knew he was having a hard time with it even though he was obviously turned on. Sam decided to help. He slowly ran the tips of his fingers over Dean's crack, making Dean squirm.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean breathed. “Please make me come by spanking my ass.”

Sam nodded. “Much better. But I think you can still try a little harder,” he said, remembering what his research had told him. It wasn't just about asking people to do things and showing your appreciation for what they'd done, it was also asking them how they could've done it better as well.

“Please, Sam,” Dean whined. “I'm so hard it hurts, I can't get off on fucking the pillow, and your fucking huge hand on my ass feels so amazing that I'm pretty sure I can get off just from you spanking me. Please let me come. Please spank me until I come all over your leg.”

Sam's jaw dropped. He'd expected Dean to work a little harder, but Dean not only did that, he passed with flying colors. Sam chuckled, shaking his head and very impressed with Dean.

“Good boy,” Sam said, then started spanking Dean, using rhythmic smacks right in the center of his ass to get Dean going as quickly as possible.

Dean pushed his ass back for each smack, then pushed forward, his cock sliding against Sam's inner thighs. Breathy little moans were bursting out of Dean with every smack, and Dean's body was jerking and brushing against Sam's cock just enough for Sam to think maybe he'd be able to get off on that alone.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean moaned loudly, thrusting harder.

Sam could tell Dean was close, so he brought his hand down much harder, and he was rewarded with Dean yelping and the sensation of warmth running between his legs as Dean came. Dean squirmed on his lap, shuddering his way through his orgasm, and Sam couldn't take it anymore. He pulled his dick out over the top of his boxers and stroked himself, only needing a few pulls to come, not caring at all that he came on Dean's right ass cheek and the carpet. Well, he cared a little bit because he decided Dean looked even hotter with his brother's come dripping down his ass.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean asked, his speech slurred.


“Can I please sleep in the bed with you?” Dean asked, almost sounding desperate. “Please?”

“No more attitude,” Sam said, by way of his demands.

Dean sighed. “Okay. I'll try really hard to drop the attitude.”

Sam grinned. “I was only going to make you sleep on the floor once, but if you sleep in bed with me tonight and the attitude starts up again, you'll be sleeping on the floor for the rest of the week.”

“Deal,” Dean said. “Can I get into bed now?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, then patted Dean's ass.

Dean chuckled as he slid off Sam and got into bed. “If I wasn't so tired, I'd go look at my ass in the mirror.”

Sam rolled around and shifted until he got comfortable. “I'll do it again another time so you can look at it in the mirror.”

Part 2
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