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Trust the doctor

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Dean was ecstatic when he realized that the bunker both had an infirmary and a dungeon. The first thought, of course, was the benefit during and after hunting, but that was swiftly pushed aside for what he and Sam could do in there during interwar times.

Sam had been reluctant when Dean first mentioned the rooms as something else than work-related.

“You watch too much porn. What’s wrong with the bed and the shower… and the Impala?”

“Nothing! Well, two of those don’t offer of much space when I’m sharing with you.”

Sam had brushed it off, but the thought had clearly grown on him, for it was his suggestion that led to him being restrained, arms to the side and legs apart, in the dungeon and Dean carefully packing up chosen items from the infirmary, some of which he’d bought online after he saw they were lacking a few things.

“Dean, hurry it up, will you? It’s starting to get cold inhere.”

“I can see that.” Dean grinned while placing the stuff on a table just out of his naked brother’s line of sight.

“Shut up.”

“Now that’s not a way to talk to the doctor.” Dean put on a white coat and turned to Sam’s side.

Sam instinctively pulled on the restraints on his ankles and wrists but couldn’t help but smile at the playful look his brother sent him. Sam’s breathing sped up. Dean was so damn hot in that coat. He wanted to carry him bridal stile to the bedroom and make love to him wearing nothing but the coat. Sam was always the romantic but being tied up and held back in his urges made everything so much hotter right now.

Dean straightened his back, made a serious face, and pulled over two IV stands and placed on each side of Sam.

“Dean?!”

He trusted Dean with his life… and his body, but this was not what he signed up for. Dean brushed a light hand over Sam’s shoulder and he passed to get something more. Dean hung a sheet between the stands and moved them closer, so the white curtain was separating Sam’s head from his body. Relived that his brother hadn’t totally lost his mind Sam sighed but now he only saw white and the ceiling.

“You’re not going to let me see?”

“Well…” Dean brushed a hand trough Sam’s thick hair and Sam couldn’t help to move into the touch. “The area needs to be sterile.”

Not being able to see his own naked body all spread out and vulnerable, made Sam feel even more exposed than before. The sound of Dean putting on gloves down there didn’t help.

“Dean, what are…?”

“Mr. Winchester. I’m going to start the examination now. I’ll need you to be quiet. It’ll be over faster if I don’t have to explain.”

Sam didn’t want it to be over fast. He wanted Dean to get this show on the road, he was already half hard, but he didn’t want it to be over. Still there was no point in arguing with Dean.

Sam was sure Dean was taking his time, getting ready, or maybe just waiting. He didn’t sense movement and didn’t hear anything. The suspense was making his heart beat faster. He could hear the blood pumping past his inner ear.

He jumped and gasped loudly when a hand touched his ribs. No words of comfort or reassurance, just movement over ribs. Fingertips walking and pressing down to his abdomen. The palpating got more profound like Dean was actually looking for something wrong in there. Soundless the fingers moved down each side. Sam shifted quickly from side to side to get away, as the touch became light enough to tickle. Dean lingered long enough to make Sam gasp for air before he mercifully moved on.

Pressing harder into the muscles the fingers walked up under his arms and across his rapidly moving chest. The pecs got extra attention, symmetrically the fingers moved in from each side, occasionally stopping to press down further in small circular motions. Sam had to bite his lip and breathe through the nose, not to squeal when each thumb found a nipple. Dean had never been so light in his touch. Almost not touching him he brushed over the already hard nipples. He moves in circular motions around them and Sam can’t help but thrust his chest up to get more contact. Dean pulled his hand’s away.

“Dean please.”

Silence. Dean was serious about the talking thing. Sam tried to calm down, breathe, but his cock was most definitely using up too much blood for him to breathe easily.

A cold piece of metal toughed his chest. A stethoscope? It moved, and Dean let out a little hum like he’d found what he was looking for. Two fingers squeezed around his nipple and Sam gasped loudly.

“I can’t hear your heart when you’re panting like that. Calm yourself down Mr. Winchester.”

Dean calling him that was making it that much harder to calm down. He tried. He had too. Dean was having was too much fun and nowhere near finishing this game, so he had to pace himself not to go frantic.

Dean squeezed harder and Sam arched his back as pleasure rushed through his body, making his feet tingle and his fingertips bore into the padded armrests his hand was tied to. Dean hummed one more time and walked away. Closing his eyes, Sam tried to calm down. Dean’s low rumbling voice was coming through even when humming, and it was spinning around in Sam’s head.

“Shit!”

There was a hand on his cock. He hadn’t even heard Dean come back to the table. He was humming again. Two fingers gently lifting it up. It didn’t need much help. He could hear Dean thinking, almost there. Then he let go and it fell slowly to his body, pointing at his navel. Sam held his breath as a fingertip brushed from the tip of his dick slowly down its shaft and all the way to his pouch. He felt the goosebumps rising up over his stomach and ribs. He tensed up and withdrew, trying to press his thighs together but there was nothing to do. He was utterly in his bother’s mercy, and he loved every second of it. Even the anticipation in waiting, was arousing him. God! Dean was taking his sweet time.

The restraints on his left ankle came loose. Sam was confused and didn’t understand. Then Dean’s strong hand grabbed him under the knee and bent his leg, he placed his foot flat on the padded surface and tied it there. Sam hadn’t thought he could be anymore exposed but when Dean moved his other leg he felt cool air touching his as. With his legs bent almost so his heels touched his rear, he wasn’t that comfortable, but being on display for Dean like that, sent waves of heat though his body and made every muscle wait in nervous anticipation.

Sam yelped and jumped, as much as the restraints would let him, when something cold was smeared over his hole. Dean didn’t seem to be bothered by the reaction. No words, no sound, not even a hand on his thigh to calm him. Just noting. Sam had to calm himself and he didn’t get much of a chance before a finger lightly circled his muscle, making him involuntarily tense up. The movement kept going, Sam was holding still, as much as he could, getting ready for the intrusion. Breathing, relaxing. The finger moved over his tight muscle once, twice and a third time, before Sam was relaxed enough.

Dean must have seen it too. Slowly a slick gloved finger pushed inside. Sam moaned out loud and grabbed on to the table under his hands. He was tight, Dean loved it he knew that. He loved it. Sam was sure that Dean liked the foreplay just as much as he did, and when there was no time, sometime there just isn’t, Dean would bottom.

The finger twisted, and Sam’s toes curled. Sam closed his eyes and rested his head back on the table. Dean brushed over his prostate and every last of Sam muscles tensed and his back arched. He opened his eyes to see, but only saw colors. Within a second, he was limp on the table again. Well, not totally limp. One part of his body was fully rigid. Sam felt himself pounding to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Sam readied himself for take two, but nothing came. Even if Dean didn’t tell him, there were always signs of what to come and when. This time Sam’s body had reacted to a feeling only and the release from the anticipation had been strong enough to mask that Dean had retracted his finger. He was empty.

Before he could imagine what, he was doing down there. The finger returned. Unprepared, Sam gasped loudly and squeezed around it. Dean held it still, barely inside, till he relaxed again. Sam was confused, it felt like Dean was playing with him. Exploring what the smallest touch could do to his larger than life little-brother. Sam was close to breathless but the not knowing what was happening took presence.

“Dean? What?”

The only answer was a second fingertip entering. Sam bit his lower lip and looked into the ceiling. Not even past the muscle Dean started to move his fingertips. Sam shook his head, still looking at that same spot. It was a strange feeling. The goal had always been pleasure, and there was only one fast way to do that back there, and it worked every time. What was his brother playing at?

Dean continued, and the anticipation and confusion took over again. Sam needed to see Dean, he needed to look into his eyes and read what he was about to do, and not having the opportunity made him shiver with desire. The fingertips pulled apart and stretched him. Sam involuntarily squeezed. There was a pause in Dean’s movement, he waited then he spoke with that deep voice, Sam was sure he played it up in this doctor-role too.

“You are allowed to tell me if it hurts, Mr. Winchester.”

“It didn’t. I was just… you know, surprised.”

“Well, surprises are half the examination. I need to see how you react. Just tell me if it hurts.”

“I will.”

That statement didn’t really have the bed-side-manor-effect of calming Sam down, but he was sure that wasn’t what Dean was going for anyway.

The fingertips stretched him again, and this time he let it happen. They turned and then again. One finger suddenly pushed all the way in and pressed his prostate. Sam cried out with shock and pleasure. Intuitively he pushed himself down, towards the feeling, but again he was left alone and empty.

He gathered himself. This was torture, his cock was burning hot, and he felt it dripping precum unto his stomach. Just for a second, he wondered if Dean would leave him here. Sweating, panting and hard, alone without being able to move. Dean wouldn’t do that. They didn’t have a safe word, they never needed one before, but if Sam said stop, he was certain, that Dean would untie him and kiss him till neither of them could breathe.

Sam heard metal rattling. Dean’s belt! But he wasn’t prepped enough. Dean had to know. More cold lube was smeared on him. He tried to close his knees together, but it wasn’t working. He tried to pull away, but his arms were tied to far apart for him to move. A finger brushed over his hole. His whole body tensed up.

“Wait. Dean! Not yet!”

“Trust me, Mr. Winchester. I know what I’m doing.”

Sam trusted Dean, he did, but Dean was too big for him. He wasn’t ready.

“I’m not there yet.”

For the first time since the curtain separated Sam’s head from his body, there was a hand not meant to arouse or surprise. Dean’s warm hand on his inner thigh was obviously there to comfort. Warm spread from it throughout his long body and eased his tension.

“Sam. Do you trust me?”

Dean had broken character. Sam thought he would have stopped the play before he’d do that.

“I trust you.”

Maybe he had forgotten for a moment who was actually on the other side of that curtain, because there wasn’t any doubt. He would always trust Dean.

“Okay… Mr. Winchester.” Dean was back in the role and the hand was gone. “Let me know if need me to stop or take a break.”

“I will.”

Sam found that spot in the ceiling again and listened to his breathing going faster. Something cold touched him and he flinched. Cold and unforgivingly hard metal moved smoothly inside him. What the hell?! He tried to pull himself further up on the table, but again it was pointless. Sam wanted to yell at Dean to get, whatever the hell that was, out of him, but he couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs. He squeezed around it and it shifted, only a little, but enough to make him moan in pleasure.

Everything went white as the thing expanded. Fuck! Sam knocked his head back in the padding, hard. With eyes locked at nothing and his mouth open, he filled his lungs to the breaking point before letting the air out in heavy sighs. It kept stretching him. He couldn’t stop his knees from shaking and he wondered how long it would take before it would hurt. It was too tight. He gasped and pulled the restraints on his wrists, just to move something, just to feel something else than his ass being opened. Then it stopped moving. It wasn’t expanding anymore. It seemed like Dean had let go all together.

There was something in there. A finger, or a thing. Sam had no idea, but it was moving around, touching him. Teasing him. The play with his nipples earlier had been noting. His entire body was calling for the touch to hit the spot it was circling. Sam held his breath. Biting his lower lip and squeezing his eyes shut, he started shaking all over. Dean was making him go fucking insane.

Sam screamed and lifted his head and upper body from the table, when Dean finally brushed over the sweet spot. The restraints catched him and sent him crashing back on the table, gasping and shaking still. The touch was gone, and the metal got smaller again.

“No… please.” Sam was panting but he needed to say this.

“Dean. Please let me cum… no more.” Normally both of them was above begging but Sam was so close, and he couldn’t handle the thought of having to wait any longer.

A gloved hand grabbed his erect cock. Fucking finally! Dean’s hand moved slowly up and down, and a Sam thrusted up into the sensation, he thanked every God they’d ever heard of, that Dean hadn’t changed gloves. The leftover lube on the hand, was warm by now and Sam felt nothing but pleasure.

Dean was at his hole. Dean’s warm cock was pressing at his entrance. Wild with anticipation Sam grabbed on to the table under his hands and held tight. Dean pressed in slowly.

“Dee!”

There was no pain, but the stretching was too much, and Sam couldn’t say anything else. The spreader from before couldn’t have been that big. He wasn’t ready. Dean paused everything but didn’t pull out. A kiss fell on his belly, and then on his hip. Goosebumps decorated his entire body, he felt them forming under his layer of sweat from his shoulders, over the but and all the way till his ankles.

The stroking started again, eventually the hand moved over his sensitive head and Sam jumped. Dean must have seen an opportunity and pressed in further. Sam’s sight got blurry and his head felt weirdly light and he had to remind himself to breathe. The soft touch on his cock and the slow but violent stretching of his ass, collided with his lack of view and he couldn’t help moaning loudly and pushing down onto Dean. It burned. It was burning so extremely delicious. Never had Dean pushed him like this before, never had he pushed inside him like this before. Dean had always made sure Sam was prepped.

Soon Dean was pounding, and Sam had to surrender to his body. He gave up all control. It was taken from him. Sam’s gasping became shorter and eventually they stopped in a half indrawn breath. Every muscle tensed under a hot wave, wildly rolling over him. He emptied his lungs in a scream that ended in a long-drawn moan. Then his entire being fell limp.

Panting and sweating he felt his feet and legs twitch, while Dean pushed in one last time and let out a moan that wasn’t appropriate for a doctor, at all.

Sam was empty again. The contrast to nothing was too big. He needed touch. He needed Dean, but Dean wasn’t there. He heard him across the room and Sam turned his head to locate his brother, but he was still behind the curtain.

“No more testing today. We got the samples we need.” Dean was winded and probably still shaking a bit from the act, but he managed to sound almost professional again. Sam heard Dean taking of the gloved and the trashcan open and close.

“Dean?” Sam was breathless, but everything in his body longed for Dean and he had to get his attention. He was done playing.

Dean walked into Sam’s line of sight and hung the white coat on a hanger. Then he turned and for the first time in what felt like forever, he looked his little-brother in the eyes and Sam was able to take an effortless breath. Dean smiled and came over to his head.

“Did you like?” He pressed a kiss on Sam’s forehead. The burning of Sam’s eyes and the lump in his throat made him only nod as an answer.

Dean pulled down the curtain, and Sam was able to see his bend legs tied apart, the sweat on his skin and the evidence of a perfect ending spread over his torso.

Dean placed kisses on Sam’s neck, color bone, chest and ribs before he could reach to untie the restraints on Sam’s ankles. Sam groaned softly as his joints were allowed movement again. A soon as his hands and arms were free he grabbed Dean. Dean looked startled, as Sam still hadn’t spoken, but Sam pulled himself up and his brother close. Without further delay he kissed Dean deeply. Dean retaliated, and Sam ended up lying back on the table again. Sam held on to Dean for dear life so when they broke it off, their noses were still touching, and Sam was looking into those deep emerald eyes.

“I guess you really did like it.” Dean was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh my God. You have no idea.”

Dean looked down Sam’s body and ran a finger through the white sticky trail. “I’m sure I do.”

He pulled away and grabbed Sam’s hand to pull him up.

“Let’s go get cleaned up. Can you stand yet?”

Sam pushed away Dean’s hand and sent him an annoyed look, but with a smile. He knew that Dean would do anything for him the rest of the day, and all he wanted was to take a shower and then cuddle up in his brother’s arms in bed…

…or the impala.