All in a Day's Work
Pairing: John/Dean, Sam/Dean
Rating: N/C 17
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, abuse, wincest, gratuitous use of derogatory terms, underage (Sam is 14)
Summary: Written for an anon kink meme prompt and for lylithj2 who wanted a dark fic. So I wrote her one for her birthday. Growing up Sam has never had to take care of his own "needs", it's part of Dean's job to do that for him along with the cooking and cleaning and protecting Sam and "whatever" else John wants him to do. One day Sam is particularly needy and Dean needs to "take care of him" so many times he doesn't get his work done. John comes home and things get very unpleasant for Dean. Afterwards Dean goes back to his room and sees that Sam needs taking care of again because, even though he doesn't like what John did to Dean, he got kind of turned on by it. So Dean takes care of Sam again. Prompter wanted Sam to be possessive of Dean and for the boys to really care about each other. I did the best I could with that. Their relationship is so screwed up anything could be construed as love. The actual prompt was about five times longer than this, so I've sort of just summarized. You know, in my summary
Additional warning: Porn
Two loads down and one to go. Dean paused in his laundry folding to cast a quick look at Sam, who was sprawled on the couch with his European history book in front of his face. The kid was good for right now, but twice in the two and a half hours since he'd gotten home from school he'd put down his books and started to tell Dean about the new girl who'd shown up in his homeroom today. The chick was apparently Sam's idea of heaven and every time he'd thought about her, he'd needed taking care of. Sam's fourteen year old dick was always ready to go on a moment's notice and this girl was getting noticed big time. Dean folded the last towel in the basket and decided he should get dinner started while he waited for the last load in the dryer to finish. He still had an hour or so before Dad got home and the laundry, dishes and general cleaning of the living room to finish up. He hoped Sam would be too engrossed in the paper that was due tomorrow to give the girl any more thought. Dean couldn't be interrupted in his work too many more times before he'd run out of time to get everything done. Dad hadn't left the house until after one and he'd kept Dean busy in bed right up until he'd gone out to pick up some ammo and information from a fellow hunter a few hours away. Dean was just happy his father had left him at home instead of bringing him along. Dean really hated being shared with Dad's buddies.
Dean had the clean laundry on the kitchen table divided into three piles. Bedding and towels, Dad's clothes and Sam's clothes. When he'd gotten the last load folded, he'd put them away all at once. He'd gone through the fridge earlier to plan out dinner and now he pulled out carrots, potatoes and celery to chop for the stew he was making. He'd chopped and cooked the onions and garlic hours ago. He didn't want to leave those smells on Sam when he touched him. Dean dumped the chopped vegetables and beef into a pot of broth on the stove and started it simmering. He was just putting his knife and chopping block in the sink when he heard Sam groan and drop his book to the table.
"God, Dean. You should have seen her. She was so fucking hot. The hottest thing I've ever seen outside this house."
Dean turned a resigned glance his brother's way and as he'd feared, Sam's legs were spread wide and his jeans were bulging. Dean hurried from the kitchen, stopping only to snag the laundry basket. The dryer should be done by the time he'd gotten Sam finished off and he could save himself a trip by bringing it with him now. Dean paused at the kitchen door to strip off his tight t-shirt and shuck off his ratty sweat pants and fold them neatly on a chair place just outside the door. Even though he kept Dean shaved clean of everything but the hair on his head, Dad felt it would be unsanitary for Dean to work in the kitchen without clothes. The few items he was allowed were kept on the chair for when they were needed. Dean knew Sam wouldn't have told if he had skipped the stripping and had gotten him off with his clothes on. Dean however wasn't taking the chance of his father coming home unexpectedly and catching him outside of the kitchen wearing anything more than his collar and his cockring. The one and only time that had happened, Dean hadn't been able to walk for a week.
Dean trotted the few steps to his brother and dropped to his knees in front of the couch. He reached out to unfasten Sam's pants and pushed them down a little, reaching down to pull out Sam's cock. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, hoping that Sam would settle for a quick jerking off. He really didn't have time for anything else. His hand was reaching to wrap around Sam when his brother's hand caught him hard by the wrist.
"Mouth Dean? Please? Want you to blow me, nice and slow."
Dean cast a panicked look at the clock and then at the work he still had to do. But it wasn't like he had a choice. Please, Sam said, and Thank you. Not that it really made a difference. He could say Get down here and suck my dick, you fucking whore the way Dad did and Dean would still end up sucking him off. It made a difference that Sam asked nicely though. It had to, right?
Slow, Sam had said, so Dean mouthed down his shaft with soft kisses and gentle licks. His hand gently cupped and played with his brother's balls. Sam moaned and wrapped a hand in Dean's hair, pulling him up until the head of Sam's cock was right in front of Dean's mouth. Dean tilted his eyes up to meet Sam's and the pink of his tongue peeked out from between those sinful lips before lapping at the tip of Sam's cock. Then the lips themselves, still swollen from the two previous blowjobs they'd given, parted to wrap themselves around the head. Dean sucked softly, tonguing his way slowly down Sam's shaft. Sam's breath began to come faster and he thrust his hips forward. Dean skillfully accommodated Sam's thrust, opening wider and letting his brother pump into his throat. Dean's hand continued to massage Sam's balls while his tongue stroked what was in his mouth and his throat swallowed around the thick length filling it. Sam had said "slow", but his actions wouldn't let it happen. He groaned and snapped his hips forward, shooting his load down his brother's throat for the third time that afternoon. Sam slumped back against the couch and Dean continued to lick and suck Sam's dick until he'd removed every trace of his come. Then he took a small towel from the stack on the couch's end table and wiped Sam dry before tucking him back into his pants and fastening them up. Sam gave him a blazing smile.
"Thanks, Dean."
Dean just nodded as he got to his feet and hurried to the bathroom to clean up before returning to his duties in the kitchen. Dean's bladder was full, and his nerves were making him need to go like crazy, but he wasn't allowed to take a piss without permission and Sam wasn't allowed to give it. Dean soaped up and scrubbed his arms and face, wiping his chest down with the towel he dried himself off with. He practically ran out of the bathroom and froze at the sight of his father standing in the living room.
John's eyes took in the laundry covering the kitchen table and the dirty chopping board on the counter. The living room was mostly clean, but the plate and cup from the snack Dean had fixed for Sam when he got home from school still sat on the floor by the couch. His hard gaze traveled around the room and landed on his trembling son.
"Hey, Dad! How'd your meeting with Stanley go? Get any intel on the deaths in Riverton?" Sam seemed oblivious to his father's anger and Dean's fear.
"Meeting went lousy. He was pissed I didn't bring Dean over for a session and tried to short me on the ammo. His info was worthless too. He promised me better if I brought your brother along next time. Think I'll do that. It's a small enough thing to do to get good intel." John's lip quirked up as Dean began to shake harder. Dean didn't like being taken along as a party favor to any of John's meetings, but John didn't give a fuck what Dean liked. Stanley was a brute and when he and John double teamed Dean it was some of the best times John had had with the boy. Yeah, he'd definitely bring Dean next time. But right now, Dean hadn't finished the chores that John had assigned him before he left and that needed dealing with right now.
"Sam, go to your room. Dean didn't finish his chores and I need to make sure he knows he can't just not do what I tell him." John smiled at the look Sam gave him as he got up to obey. "Don't worry, I'll send him in to you when I'm done."
"Dad," Sam knew he'd kept Dean from finishing his chores. "there was this new girl at school today. I couldn't stop thinking about her and Dean had to take care of me more than usual. He would have gotten his work finished a while ago if it wasn't for me."
John just grinned at Sam. "That's my boy! How many times?"
"Three."
"Yeah, I imagine that used up a bit of time. How'd he get you off?"
"Blowjobs."
John's gaze flicked back to Dean, who was resolutely staring at the floor. Took in his son's swollen, reddened lips. "Yeah, thought his mouth looked like it'd been busy. But that's no excuse Sam. Taking care of you is part of his job. He can't use it as an excuse for not getting the rest of his work done. You understand?"
Sam nodded although he didn't really understand and headed for his room. Staying and arguing on Dean's behalf would only make Dad angrier and he'd only take it out on Dean. What was coming was going to be bad enough without Sam making it any worse. As he passed Dean he sent an apologetic look his way, but with his eyes fixed on the floor, Dean didn't see it. Sam went into his room, but left the door ajar, peeking through it to see what his father was going to do to Dean.
"Get over here, boy." John's voice was a angry growl and Dean let out a deep breath and hurried over. When he'd almost reached his father, John swung his arm and delivered a backhand to Dean's mouth that sent him crashing to the floor. Dean shook his pain filled head and began to climb to his feet before his father's hand around his neck forced him back to his knees. John's hand moved higher and tangled in Dean's hair. Roughly pulling his oldest's head back he took in the fearfully resigned eyes and blood streaming down his chin from his split lip. "Suck me, you worthless whore. And if you get any blood on my clothes, I'm taking it out on your ass."
Dean reached forward and undid his father's fly, took down the zipper and gently pulled his jeans and boxers down over his hips. John's cock sprang free, as red and angry looking as his face. Dean pressed the expected kiss to the head and then mouthed down the shaft to suck John's balls into his mouth. Dean had one hand working his father's cock while the other tried to hold John's clothes back out of the way of the blood dripping off his chin.
"Put your other hand on your own cock, bitch. Jerk yourself while you're getting me off. You're making a mess, but before we're done you're going to be even messier. Don't worry. You'll clean it all up before I let you go."
Dean slid his hand down to his own cock and began to rub and twist the way his father wanted. John had gotten him hard before he started fucking him this morning and his cock ring had kept him that way ever since. He was hard as a rock and every touch felt like fire, but he continued to jerk himself while his mouth and other hand concentrated on his father's pleasure. John pulled Dean's mouth off his balls and fisted his hands into Dean's hair.
"Open up." Dean did and John shoved his thick shaft straight down his son's throat. "Should be plenty open from taking Sammy down there all afternoon. Have to give him a reward for warming you up for me."
Sam watched from the bedroom, silently wishing he'd let Dean get him off with hand jobs earlier. Dean's throat had to be sore already from taking Sam's cock down it so many times, but at least Sam had gone easy on him. Except for a few thrusts at the beginning and end, he'd let Dean do all the work of getting him off. He bit his lip as he watched his father's hips pistoning, sending his big cock in and out of Dean's throat hard. John gripped Dean's head to hold it still and stopped his thrusting. Sam could see Dean's chest heaving as he sucked air in desperately through his nose. He'd need to get as much air in as he could before his father started his punishing thrusts again. John moaned as Dean's tongue worked his cock.
"Damn, boy the mouth on you. With that and your ass, at least you're good for something." John gasped as Dean hit a sensitive spot and began once again to thrust deep into his son's throat. It wasn't long before John came in a gush and Dean swallowed it all down. As he had with his little brother, Dean licked the come from his father's cock then started to rise to get the towel to dry him with. Before he could reach his feet another hard slap sent him back to his knees.
"Didn't tell you to get up, slut. Undress me."
Dean got to work untying his father's heavy boots and removing them and his socks. He reached up to pull John's jeans and boxers down and folded them next to him. He then knelt with his head down, waiting for permission to get up and remove his father's shirt. John gazed down at Dean in satisfaction. He'd teach the fucking whore to do what he was told.
"Get up." John grabbed Dean's hair and hauled him to his feet. "Take off my shirt."
Dean took John's t-shirt by the hem and carefully pulled it up, and over his head before folding it and placing it on top of the other clothes. John tilted Dean's head back and slowly licked the blood from his chin before pressing his lips to his son's. He kissed Dean hard and deep, forcing his blood slicked tongue deep inside his boy's mouth and forcing Dean to swallow his own blood. He pulled back to nip at Dean's split lip and the blood that had been slowing to a stop, started to trickle down his chin again.
"Love the sight of you in blood, Dean." He murmured. "Let's see if we can't manage more." He turned Dean around and gave him a hard shove. "Up against the wall. Assume the position."
Dean hesitated for just a moment casting a frantic glance toward the kitchen. Steam was rising from the stew pot and he didn't want to be punished for ruining dinner too. "Dad, please. The stove."
John followed Dean's wide eyes to the stove. "Good call. If you'd burned Sammy's and my dinner on top of everything else, things would get really unpleasant for you tonight. Might have had to give Stanley a call to come over. As it is, you actually did something right. Just for that I won't make you bleed any more tonight. At least not on purpose. After all you look just as good in black and blue." John moved into the kitchen and turned off the burner. When he turned back, Dean had his hands pressed to the wall over his head and his legs pushed back and spread. John walked to the closet and considered his options, hand going back and forth between the strap and the hard wooden paddle. He'd said he wouldn't bleed Dean so he left the switch and whip where they were. He decided he'd start with the strap and finish with his hand and walked over to his waiting son.
The first crack of the strap against Dean's ass and the cry that accompanied it made Sam's soft cock start to harden again in his jeans. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of the red welts that began to streak his brother's pale skin. It didn't help. The sounds pounded his brain and his imagination worked overtime filling in the blanks and he only got harder. Damn it. He hated the way Dad hurting Dean made him feel. If he could run out there and make Dad stop he would in a second. But all he could do was stand here and listen and hate himself for how good Dean's pain made him feel.
John continued to wield the strap, concentrating mostly on Dean's ass, but also striping his lower back and thighs. Occasionally he'd cast a glance over his shoulder at Sam's face peeking through his doorway and smile at his boy's blown pupils and harsh pants. Sammy got off on this. He wouldn't admit it, but he did. John dropped the strap after twenty strokes and pressed himself against Dean's burning flesh. His cock was twitching, getting interested in the proceedings, but he wasn't Sam's age any more, damn it all. It was going to take more to get him ready for the grand finale. He put his hands on Dean's arms, pulling him off the wall and back against his body. He pressed his hips against Dean and the hissing whimper that followed moved things along a little. What he really needed was the boy spread over his lap, squirming and bucking and crying while John continued the spanking with nothing more than his bare hand.
"Couch, now." he whispered into his son's ear, grabbing Dean's arm and moving in that direction. Two steps had him seated, legs spread just enough. Dean knew what was coming, but he stood there, pale and shaking, waiting to be told what to do. "Across my lap, ass up." Dean lowered himself gingerly and positioned himself as he was told. John kept one hand pressed against Dean's back to keep him in place even though it wasn't strictly necessary. Any escape attempt on Dean's part would be met with more punishment than he would ever want to deal with. The boy wasn't going anywhere. His other hand rubbed over Dean's welts from back to thighs and back up again pausing at his ass for a hard slap. Dean's hips bucked against John and oh yeah, this was going to work. He looked up at Sam and back down at Dean, hiding his grin. Sammy must be ready to come in his pants just about now. Well, this would be good for him. Teach him some control. Because John wasn't going to be done with Dean for a good long while.
John's hand continued to rub and scratch and slam down on Dean's sore flesh until his son's hips were twisting and bucking uncontrollably over his lap. The whimpering gasp that accompanied each blow helped matters along and soon Dean could feel the tip of his father's hard cock poking at his belly. He felt a mixture of relief and dread at the sensation because, though he knew it meant the beating was almost over, a hard and painful fucking was going to immediately follow it. He'd rather have the beating continue, but this would go according to his father's schedule and nothing he did or said would change that.
The blows stopped and John's hand released Dean's back.
"Get up." John's hand pulled back on his son's shoulder and Dean pushed himself back onto his knees before getting shakily to his feet. He stood in front of his father, swaying slightly and waiting for his next orders. John slid further back onto the couch and leaned against the back, spreading his legs farther apart. "Ride me now, whore."
Dean went to the table by the couch and pulled a tube of lube from the drawer. Squeezing some into his palm, he warmed it before smearing it over his father's cock. "How do you want me?" he whispered.
"Back to me." his father replied and Dean maneuvered himself into position. He reached around behind him to get John's cock in place, then sank down onto it. John had fucked him once this morning, so he wasn't too tight, but he wasn't that loose either. Dean's breath came out in harsh pants as he forced himself down onto his father's thick length. When he was fully seated on John's cock, his father reached around and squeezed Dean's balls. "Move, bitch. I'm not doing the work here."
Dean braced his hands on his thighs and slid slowly up until just the head of his father's cock was left inside him, and just as slowly lowered himself again. With each pass he was loosening up and able to make his movements faster and harder the way John liked them. John's hands found Dean's hips and he used his tight grip to slam Dean up and down his shaft, Dean's soft whimpers a counterpoint to his own harsh grunts. He'd faced Dean outward so Sam could enjoy the show and John was sure it was a good one. Dean bouncing up and down, his own cock slapping against his belly while John's plowed his ass. Sammy was sure going to need Dean's services after this. John was reaching the end now, could feel his climax building so he began thrusting his hips up hard as he pulled Dean down, finally pulling his son tight against him as he filled that tight heat with his spunk.
John kept Dean where he was until he got his breath back, passing the time by sucking and biting at Dean's neck and running his hands up and down Dean's smooth thighs. When he felt his come leaking out of Dean and down onto his crotch, he pushed his son off him with a disgusted grunt. "Get your plug out of the drawer bring it to me. Don't want you making any more of a mess than you already have. Then clean me the fuck up." Sam was still watching from his doorway. John could see his hand pressed to his crotch and the need on his face. When Dean handed his father the butt plug and bent over for it's insertion, Sam had had enough. He closed the door and backed into his room, not stopping until his knees hit his bed and he sat down hard. He couldn't watch Dean lick his father clean when he so desperately needed his brother's mouth himself. It happened this way sometimes, and Sam never could get used to it. Usually if Dad was using Dean and Sam needed taking care of, he'd share. Let him use Dean's mouth or hand, whatever Dad didn't happen to be using at the time. But when Dean was being punished he was off limits to everyone but Dad. Sam hated when Dad punished Dean for a lot of reasons but one of the main ones was that watching it made him harder than just about anything else, while at the same time it kept his brother from doing his job and taking care of that need. Sam pressed his hand tighter against his erection and hoped Dad would be finished with Dean soon.
Dean finished cleaning and drying his father then waited for his next instructions. John stared down at his son's bowed head. Sammy must be about ready to burst and John wanted to send Dean in to him, but he didn't want Sammy to have to deal with Dean like this. Dean's hair was wet with sweat and it dripped down his body. Blood dotted his chin and his chest and he had come still coating the inside of his thighs. No, a quick shower was in order before Dean was going near his brother. John loved washing Dean. Running his soapy hands down that hard belly, smooth and hairless all the way to his shaved balls. Loved running his hands over every inch of Dean's soft, smooth skin. John took care of shaving Dean's pubic and genital hair and loved watching his little slut lathering and shaving the rest of his body. John's cock tried to twitch interestedly at the thought of Dean in the shower, but he knew he was done for a while. Still could enjoy having his hands on the boy though. He pulled Dean to his feet and steered him to the bathroom.
Five minutes later the hot spray pounded them as John leaned Dean back against his chest and moved his soapy hand across his nipples and down his belly, rubbing circles on the smooth skin above his boy's crotch. Dean moaned as John's hand rubbed and tugged at his still bound cock. John swallowed the noise by turning Dean's face to him and covering his mouth with a bruising kiss. John kept his mouth pressed to his son's as his hands moved over Dean's thighs, washing the evidence of John's ownership from them. He then cleaned the hot, red globes of Dean's ass, sliding his hands between Dean's cheeks to clean around the protruding plug. He usually made Dean wash him after, but he wanted to get the boy to his brother. He washed himself quickly then dried Dean first and sent him off with a hard slap on the ass and an order to go see to his brother. John dried himself leisurely then put on some clean clothes. He wanted to go watch the boys, but figured he'd give Sam some privacy. He'd look in on them in a few minutes.
Sam looked up as the door opened and Dean limped slowly through it. Dean's eyes went immediately to Sam and he walked to the bed, dropping to his knees in front of Sam and reaching for his fly. Sam watched Dean carefully as his brother carefully eased down Sam's pants and pulled out his cock. Dean was trembling and as he pressed a kiss to the tip of Sam's cock Sam felt him flinch slightly. Dean opened his lips and prepared to take Sam in, too tired and hurt for any sort of foreplay. Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, holding him in place.
Dean raised dull eyes to meet his brother's. "Sorry, Sam. Want me to play with it first?"
"No, no Dean it's o.k. Come up on the bed with me."
"Want me to blow you up there?"
"Just get up here, Dean." Sam's exasperated tone had Dean climbing up to join his brother on the bed. Sam slithered further back and pulled his shirt off. Then he wiggled his jeans further down his hips and lay down on his back. "Come up here and lay down beside me."
"Don't want me to suck your cock?" Dean sounded confused and Sam couldn't really blame him. The only time Sam ever went for a handjob was when Dad was already using Dean's mouth.
"More in the mood for a nice slow hand job. You're practically falling over and your throat must be killing you."
"Doesn't matter how I feel, Sam. If you want my mouth, you get my mouth."
Sam's hand ran gently through Dean's hair. "It matters to me Dean. I don't want you to hurt any more than you already do. Now, please. Just lay down here and jerk me off."
Dean sighed and settled next to his brother. There was that please again. He positioned himself carefully on his side, trying to avoid putting any pressure on his painful back or front. Sam wrapped an arm around him and pulled him forward so he was draped along Sam's side with his head on his little brother's shoulder. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Sam's cock. Sam jerked and gasped at Dean's touch and Dean stopped immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asked in alarm.
"Nothing, really." Sam replied sheepishly. "It's just that I've needed this for a while and I dont' think I'm going to last very long."
"Sorry I made you wait, Sam."
"Jesus, Dean don't apologize. It's not like you could have gotten here until Dad was done with you. It's not your fault."
"It's always my fault." Dean whispered against Sam's neck as his hand returned to it's work. Now that he knew how close Sam was he kept his touch light and gentle to prolong his brother's pleasure. Sam's breath came in sharp gasps as Dean's hand slid and twisted around his shaft, occasionally sliding down to massage his balls. Sam didn't last long. It was only a few minutes before his hips arched up off the bed and ropes of come were shooting all over his belly. Sam moved to grab a towel from the bedside table, but Dean forestalled him by shifting his position and beginning to clean Sam off with his mouth.
"Didn't want you to do that, Dean."
"I have to Sam." Dean's voice was low and panicked. "What if he comes in and you're cleaning yourself off. I don't want any more punishment than I've already got coming."
"You're not done yet?" Sam's voice was indignant.
"Don't know." Dean's voice was shaking and Sam knew his brother was near tears. "I hope so."
The door to the room opened and Dean kept his mouth busy licking and sucking Sam clean. John watched his whore's mouth close over Sam's limp cock with a smile. "Our little comeslut taking care of you o.k., Sammy?"
"Great job like always, Dad."
"You did a great job yourself Sammy. Way to be in control. I thought you were going to come in your pants when I was striping Dean's ass for him. Don't know how you made it through watching that nice hard ride he gave my cock."
Dean showed no outward sign he'd given any notice to what his father had just said, but Sam could feel his brother's mouth start to tremble around his cock. He wanted to run his hand down Dean's side. Tell him that anything got him hard these days. It would be the truth, if not the whole truth. Tell him that he hated it when Dad hurt him, but he couldn't do anything for Dean but not hurt him himself. But he couldn't say any of that with Dad in the room. Dad would never punish him the way he punished Dean, but Sam's ass had more than a passing acquaintance with both Dad's hand and the paddle. He'd probably punish Dean more too, just because Sam tried to defend him. So he hurt Dean to spare him more pain.
"God, Dad, the way he looked when you were fucking him? I surprised myself by not coming."
John smiled at him with pride. "Growing up on me, Sammy. Gonna have to let you start doing some of the taking care of your brother. I'll give some thought to what responsibility I'm going to give you. Take your time with him. I'll keep dinner warm for you."
Sam already knew the answer, but he thought he'd try to make his earlier comment up to his brother by at least asking the question. "What about Dean?"
John snorted. "That's what? The fifth load of come he's swallowed in the last couple of hours? I think his stomach's full enough." He left the room shutting the door behind him.
Sam immediately sat up and pulled Dean's head gently off his cock. His brother's head remained down and Sam could feel wetness on his hands as he brushed Dean's cheeks. "Dean look at me. Please, Dean?"
"Why do you always say that?" Dean's voice was a rough whisper.
"Say what?'
"Please! Thank you! You always treated me like...and I thought...maybe you didn't...but you do." Dean's voice had dropped so low Sam could barely hear him by the time he'd finished speaking.
"Dean," Sam's kept his voice low and soothing as he stroked his brother's face. "Do you remember the first time you took care of me?"
Dean's mind went back to heat, back to fire and taking his baby brother and running. But he knew that wasn't what Sam was talking about. He nodded, still unable to look at Sam.
"You made me feel so good Dean. It was the first time and you put your mouth on me and you made me see stars. Then I asked you to do it again and you did. You always make me feel good Dean. That's part of your job, right? But see my teacher that year, Mrs. Semanski, was bound and determined to teach my class manners. She said we should always say please and thank you to people even if they were just doing their jobs. And she said we should especially say it when people did something for us that they didn't want to do. And I was just a kid, Dean but I could see even then that you didn't want to do this. That you only did it because Dad told you to. And when I was done and he made you put your mouth on him again I could tell you didn't want to do that either. You're not a whore, Dean. Or a slut or any of the other things he calls you. You're my brother and I love you. I didn't mean to get hard when he was hurting you, Dean. It seems like everything makes me that way lately. I hate it when he hurts you like that."
Dean thought back to when he was Sam's age and some of the creative ways John had found to get him aroused. He really couldn't blame Sam. If he was still doing it when he was twenty, well, that would be a different story.
"It's o.k Sam. It's just your age. You'll grow out of it. I did. Mostly." Dean finally looked up into his brother's face. What he saw there made him relax just a little.
Sam settled back on the bed. "Come on, Dean. Lay back down with me a while. He'll be in eventually, but until then you get a break."
Dean eased himself down into his previous position, draped against Sam. He lay his head back on his brother's shoulder and Sam's arm wrapped around his waist. Dean's hand automatically dropped to wrap around Sam's cock. It was his default position.
Sam ran his free hand through Dean's hair and down his face. "In a few years Dean, I'll be old enough to go to college. We can get out of here then. Get an apartment. I'm working on a way to get the money."
Dean turned his head into Sam's neck. "He'll never let me go, Sam. You know that."
The hopelessness in his brother's voice enraged Sam. He'd begun planning just how far he was willing to go to get Dean away from his Dad and it was pretty damned far. He didn't even know if he'd be able to wait until he was college age, but he couldn't see any way to get it done before hand.
"He will, Dean. You'll see."
"We'll get away? Get an apartment somewhere?"
"That's the plan, Dean."
"That'll be nice, Sammy." Dean's voice was getting softer and softer as his exhausted body drifted off to sleep, thinking happy thoughts. An apartment with just Sam. Friends. A real job. One that would require he wear clothes.
Sam felt his brother's relaxed breaths against his neck and smiled. Dean didn't believe him yet, but they would get away. An apartment for just the two of them. Dean would be much happier when he was just Sam's. He could do everything he did here and Sam wouldn't punish him for stupid things like not having the dishes done. Sam closed his eyes and the image of the strap connecting with Dean's ass filled his vision. His cock began to fill again in Dean's hand. Well maybe he would sometimes. He pulled Dean closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. But he'd always, always take care of him after.
Rating: N/C 17
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, abuse, wincest, gratuitous use of derogatory terms, underage (Sam is 14)
Summary: Written for an anon kink meme prompt and for lylithj2 who wanted a dark fic. So I wrote her one for her birthday. Growing up Sam has never had to take care of his own "needs", it's part of Dean's job to do that for him along with the cooking and cleaning and protecting Sam and "whatever" else John wants him to do. One day Sam is particularly needy and Dean needs to "take care of him" so many times he doesn't get his work done. John comes home and things get very unpleasant for Dean. Afterwards Dean goes back to his room and sees that Sam needs taking care of again because, even though he doesn't like what John did to Dean, he got kind of turned on by it. So Dean takes care of Sam again. Prompter wanted Sam to be possessive of Dean and for the boys to really care about each other. I did the best I could with that. Their relationship is so screwed up anything could be construed as love. The actual prompt was about five times longer than this, so I've sort of just summarized. You know, in my summary
Additional warning: Porn
Two loads down and one to go. Dean paused in his laundry folding to cast a quick look at Sam, who was sprawled on the couch with his European history book in front of his face. The kid was good for right now, but twice in the two and a half hours since he'd gotten home from school he'd put down his books and started to tell Dean about the new girl who'd shown up in his homeroom today. The chick was apparently Sam's idea of heaven and every time he'd thought about her, he'd needed taking care of. Sam's fourteen year old dick was always ready to go on a moment's notice and this girl was getting noticed big time. Dean folded the last towel in the basket and decided he should get dinner started while he waited for the last load in the dryer to finish. He still had an hour or so before Dad got home and the laundry, dishes and general cleaning of the living room to finish up. He hoped Sam would be too engrossed in the paper that was due tomorrow to give the girl any more thought. Dean couldn't be interrupted in his work too many more times before he'd run out of time to get everything done. Dad hadn't left the house until after one and he'd kept Dean busy in bed right up until he'd gone out to pick up some ammo and information from a fellow hunter a few hours away. Dean was just happy his father had left him at home instead of bringing him along. Dean really hated being shared with Dad's buddies.
Dean had the clean laundry on the kitchen table divided into three piles. Bedding and towels, Dad's clothes and Sam's clothes. When he'd gotten the last load folded, he'd put them away all at once. He'd gone through the fridge earlier to plan out dinner and now he pulled out carrots, potatoes and celery to chop for the stew he was making. He'd chopped and cooked the onions and garlic hours ago. He didn't want to leave those smells on Sam when he touched him. Dean dumped the chopped vegetables and beef into a pot of broth on the stove and started it simmering. He was just putting his knife and chopping block in the sink when he heard Sam groan and drop his book to the table.
"God, Dean. You should have seen her. She was so fucking hot. The hottest thing I've ever seen outside this house."
Dean turned a resigned glance his brother's way and as he'd feared, Sam's legs were spread wide and his jeans were bulging. Dean hurried from the kitchen, stopping only to snag the laundry basket. The dryer should be done by the time he'd gotten Sam finished off and he could save himself a trip by bringing it with him now. Dean paused at the kitchen door to strip off his tight t-shirt and shuck off his ratty sweat pants and fold them neatly on a chair place just outside the door. Even though he kept Dean shaved clean of everything but the hair on his head, Dad felt it would be unsanitary for Dean to work in the kitchen without clothes. The few items he was allowed were kept on the chair for when they were needed. Dean knew Sam wouldn't have told if he had skipped the stripping and had gotten him off with his clothes on. Dean however wasn't taking the chance of his father coming home unexpectedly and catching him outside of the kitchen wearing anything more than his collar and his cockring. The one and only time that had happened, Dean hadn't been able to walk for a week.
Dean trotted the few steps to his brother and dropped to his knees in front of the couch. He reached out to unfasten Sam's pants and pushed them down a little, reaching down to pull out Sam's cock. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, hoping that Sam would settle for a quick jerking off. He really didn't have time for anything else. His hand was reaching to wrap around Sam when his brother's hand caught him hard by the wrist.
"Mouth Dean? Please? Want you to blow me, nice and slow."
Dean cast a panicked look at the clock and then at the work he still had to do. But it wasn't like he had a choice. Please, Sam said, and Thank you. Not that it really made a difference. He could say Get down here and suck my dick, you fucking whore the way Dad did and Dean would still end up sucking him off. It made a difference that Sam asked nicely though. It had to, right?
Slow, Sam had said, so Dean mouthed down his shaft with soft kisses and gentle licks. His hand gently cupped and played with his brother's balls. Sam moaned and wrapped a hand in Dean's hair, pulling him up until the head of Sam's cock was right in front of Dean's mouth. Dean tilted his eyes up to meet Sam's and the pink of his tongue peeked out from between those sinful lips before lapping at the tip of Sam's cock. Then the lips themselves, still swollen from the two previous blowjobs they'd given, parted to wrap themselves around the head. Dean sucked softly, tonguing his way slowly down Sam's shaft. Sam's breath began to come faster and he thrust his hips forward. Dean skillfully accommodated Sam's thrust, opening wider and letting his brother pump into his throat. Dean's hand continued to massage Sam's balls while his tongue stroked what was in his mouth and his throat swallowed around the thick length filling it. Sam had said "slow", but his actions wouldn't let it happen. He groaned and snapped his hips forward, shooting his load down his brother's throat for the third time that afternoon. Sam slumped back against the couch and Dean continued to lick and suck Sam's dick until he'd removed every trace of his come. Then he took a small towel from the stack on the couch's end table and wiped Sam dry before tucking him back into his pants and fastening them up. Sam gave him a blazing smile.
"Thanks, Dean."
Dean just nodded as he got to his feet and hurried to the bathroom to clean up before returning to his duties in the kitchen. Dean's bladder was full, and his nerves were making him need to go like crazy, but he wasn't allowed to take a piss without permission and Sam wasn't allowed to give it. Dean soaped up and scrubbed his arms and face, wiping his chest down with the towel he dried himself off with. He practically ran out of the bathroom and froze at the sight of his father standing in the living room.
John's eyes took in the laundry covering the kitchen table and the dirty chopping board on the counter. The living room was mostly clean, but the plate and cup from the snack Dean had fixed for Sam when he got home from school still sat on the floor by the couch. His hard gaze traveled around the room and landed on his trembling son.
"Hey, Dad! How'd your meeting with Stanley go? Get any intel on the deaths in Riverton?" Sam seemed oblivious to his father's anger and Dean's fear.
"Meeting went lousy. He was pissed I didn't bring Dean over for a session and tried to short me on the ammo. His info was worthless too. He promised me better if I brought your brother along next time. Think I'll do that. It's a small enough thing to do to get good intel." John's lip quirked up as Dean began to shake harder. Dean didn't like being taken along as a party favor to any of John's meetings, but John didn't give a fuck what Dean liked. Stanley was a brute and when he and John double teamed Dean it was some of the best times John had had with the boy. Yeah, he'd definitely bring Dean next time. But right now, Dean hadn't finished the chores that John had assigned him before he left and that needed dealing with right now.
"Sam, go to your room. Dean didn't finish his chores and I need to make sure he knows he can't just not do what I tell him." John smiled at the look Sam gave him as he got up to obey. "Don't worry, I'll send him in to you when I'm done."
"Dad," Sam knew he'd kept Dean from finishing his chores. "there was this new girl at school today. I couldn't stop thinking about her and Dean had to take care of me more than usual. He would have gotten his work finished a while ago if it wasn't for me."
John just grinned at Sam. "That's my boy! How many times?"
"Three."
"Yeah, I imagine that used up a bit of time. How'd he get you off?"
"Blowjobs."
John's gaze flicked back to Dean, who was resolutely staring at the floor. Took in his son's swollen, reddened lips. "Yeah, thought his mouth looked like it'd been busy. But that's no excuse Sam. Taking care of you is part of his job. He can't use it as an excuse for not getting the rest of his work done. You understand?"
Sam nodded although he didn't really understand and headed for his room. Staying and arguing on Dean's behalf would only make Dad angrier and he'd only take it out on Dean. What was coming was going to be bad enough without Sam making it any worse. As he passed Dean he sent an apologetic look his way, but with his eyes fixed on the floor, Dean didn't see it. Sam went into his room, but left the door ajar, peeking through it to see what his father was going to do to Dean.
"Get over here, boy." John's voice was a angry growl and Dean let out a deep breath and hurried over. When he'd almost reached his father, John swung his arm and delivered a backhand to Dean's mouth that sent him crashing to the floor. Dean shook his pain filled head and began to climb to his feet before his father's hand around his neck forced him back to his knees. John's hand moved higher and tangled in Dean's hair. Roughly pulling his oldest's head back he took in the fearfully resigned eyes and blood streaming down his chin from his split lip. "Suck me, you worthless whore. And if you get any blood on my clothes, I'm taking it out on your ass."
Dean reached forward and undid his father's fly, took down the zipper and gently pulled his jeans and boxers down over his hips. John's cock sprang free, as red and angry looking as his face. Dean pressed the expected kiss to the head and then mouthed down the shaft to suck John's balls into his mouth. Dean had one hand working his father's cock while the other tried to hold John's clothes back out of the way of the blood dripping off his chin.
"Put your other hand on your own cock, bitch. Jerk yourself while you're getting me off. You're making a mess, but before we're done you're going to be even messier. Don't worry. You'll clean it all up before I let you go."
Dean slid his hand down to his own cock and began to rub and twist the way his father wanted. John had gotten him hard before he started fucking him this morning and his cock ring had kept him that way ever since. He was hard as a rock and every touch felt like fire, but he continued to jerk himself while his mouth and other hand concentrated on his father's pleasure. John pulled Dean's mouth off his balls and fisted his hands into Dean's hair.
"Open up." Dean did and John shoved his thick shaft straight down his son's throat. "Should be plenty open from taking Sammy down there all afternoon. Have to give him a reward for warming you up for me."
Sam watched from the bedroom, silently wishing he'd let Dean get him off with hand jobs earlier. Dean's throat had to be sore already from taking Sam's cock down it so many times, but at least Sam had gone easy on him. Except for a few thrusts at the beginning and end, he'd let Dean do all the work of getting him off. He bit his lip as he watched his father's hips pistoning, sending his big cock in and out of Dean's throat hard. John gripped Dean's head to hold it still and stopped his thrusting. Sam could see Dean's chest heaving as he sucked air in desperately through his nose. He'd need to get as much air in as he could before his father started his punishing thrusts again. John moaned as Dean's tongue worked his cock.
"Damn, boy the mouth on you. With that and your ass, at least you're good for something." John gasped as Dean hit a sensitive spot and began once again to thrust deep into his son's throat. It wasn't long before John came in a gush and Dean swallowed it all down. As he had with his little brother, Dean licked the come from his father's cock then started to rise to get the towel to dry him with. Before he could reach his feet another hard slap sent him back to his knees.
"Didn't tell you to get up, slut. Undress me."
Dean got to work untying his father's heavy boots and removing them and his socks. He reached up to pull John's jeans and boxers down and folded them next to him. He then knelt with his head down, waiting for permission to get up and remove his father's shirt. John gazed down at Dean in satisfaction. He'd teach the fucking whore to do what he was told.
"Get up." John grabbed Dean's hair and hauled him to his feet. "Take off my shirt."
Dean took John's t-shirt by the hem and carefully pulled it up, and over his head before folding it and placing it on top of the other clothes. John tilted Dean's head back and slowly licked the blood from his chin before pressing his lips to his son's. He kissed Dean hard and deep, forcing his blood slicked tongue deep inside his boy's mouth and forcing Dean to swallow his own blood. He pulled back to nip at Dean's split lip and the blood that had been slowing to a stop, started to trickle down his chin again.
"Love the sight of you in blood, Dean." He murmured. "Let's see if we can't manage more." He turned Dean around and gave him a hard shove. "Up against the wall. Assume the position."
Dean hesitated for just a moment casting a frantic glance toward the kitchen. Steam was rising from the stew pot and he didn't want to be punished for ruining dinner too. "Dad, please. The stove."
John followed Dean's wide eyes to the stove. "Good call. If you'd burned Sammy's and my dinner on top of everything else, things would get really unpleasant for you tonight. Might have had to give Stanley a call to come over. As it is, you actually did something right. Just for that I won't make you bleed any more tonight. At least not on purpose. After all you look just as good in black and blue." John moved into the kitchen and turned off the burner. When he turned back, Dean had his hands pressed to the wall over his head and his legs pushed back and spread. John walked to the closet and considered his options, hand going back and forth between the strap and the hard wooden paddle. He'd said he wouldn't bleed Dean so he left the switch and whip where they were. He decided he'd start with the strap and finish with his hand and walked over to his waiting son.
The first crack of the strap against Dean's ass and the cry that accompanied it made Sam's soft cock start to harden again in his jeans. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of the red welts that began to streak his brother's pale skin. It didn't help. The sounds pounded his brain and his imagination worked overtime filling in the blanks and he only got harder. Damn it. He hated the way Dad hurting Dean made him feel. If he could run out there and make Dad stop he would in a second. But all he could do was stand here and listen and hate himself for how good Dean's pain made him feel.
John continued to wield the strap, concentrating mostly on Dean's ass, but also striping his lower back and thighs. Occasionally he'd cast a glance over his shoulder at Sam's face peeking through his doorway and smile at his boy's blown pupils and harsh pants. Sammy got off on this. He wouldn't admit it, but he did. John dropped the strap after twenty strokes and pressed himself against Dean's burning flesh. His cock was twitching, getting interested in the proceedings, but he wasn't Sam's age any more, damn it all. It was going to take more to get him ready for the grand finale. He put his hands on Dean's arms, pulling him off the wall and back against his body. He pressed his hips against Dean and the hissing whimper that followed moved things along a little. What he really needed was the boy spread over his lap, squirming and bucking and crying while John continued the spanking with nothing more than his bare hand.
"Couch, now." he whispered into his son's ear, grabbing Dean's arm and moving in that direction. Two steps had him seated, legs spread just enough. Dean knew what was coming, but he stood there, pale and shaking, waiting to be told what to do. "Across my lap, ass up." Dean lowered himself gingerly and positioned himself as he was told. John kept one hand pressed against Dean's back to keep him in place even though it wasn't strictly necessary. Any escape attempt on Dean's part would be met with more punishment than he would ever want to deal with. The boy wasn't going anywhere. His other hand rubbed over Dean's welts from back to thighs and back up again pausing at his ass for a hard slap. Dean's hips bucked against John and oh yeah, this was going to work. He looked up at Sam and back down at Dean, hiding his grin. Sammy must be ready to come in his pants just about now. Well, this would be good for him. Teach him some control. Because John wasn't going to be done with Dean for a good long while.
John's hand continued to rub and scratch and slam down on Dean's sore flesh until his son's hips were twisting and bucking uncontrollably over his lap. The whimpering gasp that accompanied each blow helped matters along and soon Dean could feel the tip of his father's hard cock poking at his belly. He felt a mixture of relief and dread at the sensation because, though he knew it meant the beating was almost over, a hard and painful fucking was going to immediately follow it. He'd rather have the beating continue, but this would go according to his father's schedule and nothing he did or said would change that.
The blows stopped and John's hand released Dean's back.
"Get up." John's hand pulled back on his son's shoulder and Dean pushed himself back onto his knees before getting shakily to his feet. He stood in front of his father, swaying slightly and waiting for his next orders. John slid further back onto the couch and leaned against the back, spreading his legs farther apart. "Ride me now, whore."
Dean went to the table by the couch and pulled a tube of lube from the drawer. Squeezing some into his palm, he warmed it before smearing it over his father's cock. "How do you want me?" he whispered.
"Back to me." his father replied and Dean maneuvered himself into position. He reached around behind him to get John's cock in place, then sank down onto it. John had fucked him once this morning, so he wasn't too tight, but he wasn't that loose either. Dean's breath came out in harsh pants as he forced himself down onto his father's thick length. When he was fully seated on John's cock, his father reached around and squeezed Dean's balls. "Move, bitch. I'm not doing the work here."
Dean braced his hands on his thighs and slid slowly up until just the head of his father's cock was left inside him, and just as slowly lowered himself again. With each pass he was loosening up and able to make his movements faster and harder the way John liked them. John's hands found Dean's hips and he used his tight grip to slam Dean up and down his shaft, Dean's soft whimpers a counterpoint to his own harsh grunts. He'd faced Dean outward so Sam could enjoy the show and John was sure it was a good one. Dean bouncing up and down, his own cock slapping against his belly while John's plowed his ass. Sammy was sure going to need Dean's services after this. John was reaching the end now, could feel his climax building so he began thrusting his hips up hard as he pulled Dean down, finally pulling his son tight against him as he filled that tight heat with his spunk.
John kept Dean where he was until he got his breath back, passing the time by sucking and biting at Dean's neck and running his hands up and down Dean's smooth thighs. When he felt his come leaking out of Dean and down onto his crotch, he pushed his son off him with a disgusted grunt. "Get your plug out of the drawer bring it to me. Don't want you making any more of a mess than you already have. Then clean me the fuck up." Sam was still watching from his doorway. John could see his hand pressed to his crotch and the need on his face. When Dean handed his father the butt plug and bent over for it's insertion, Sam had had enough. He closed the door and backed into his room, not stopping until his knees hit his bed and he sat down hard. He couldn't watch Dean lick his father clean when he so desperately needed his brother's mouth himself. It happened this way sometimes, and Sam never could get used to it. Usually if Dad was using Dean and Sam needed taking care of, he'd share. Let him use Dean's mouth or hand, whatever Dad didn't happen to be using at the time. But when Dean was being punished he was off limits to everyone but Dad. Sam hated when Dad punished Dean for a lot of reasons but one of the main ones was that watching it made him harder than just about anything else, while at the same time it kept his brother from doing his job and taking care of that need. Sam pressed his hand tighter against his erection and hoped Dad would be finished with Dean soon.
Dean finished cleaning and drying his father then waited for his next instructions. John stared down at his son's bowed head. Sammy must be about ready to burst and John wanted to send Dean in to him, but he didn't want Sammy to have to deal with Dean like this. Dean's hair was wet with sweat and it dripped down his body. Blood dotted his chin and his chest and he had come still coating the inside of his thighs. No, a quick shower was in order before Dean was going near his brother. John loved washing Dean. Running his soapy hands down that hard belly, smooth and hairless all the way to his shaved balls. Loved running his hands over every inch of Dean's soft, smooth skin. John took care of shaving Dean's pubic and genital hair and loved watching his little slut lathering and shaving the rest of his body. John's cock tried to twitch interestedly at the thought of Dean in the shower, but he knew he was done for a while. Still could enjoy having his hands on the boy though. He pulled Dean to his feet and steered him to the bathroom.
Five minutes later the hot spray pounded them as John leaned Dean back against his chest and moved his soapy hand across his nipples and down his belly, rubbing circles on the smooth skin above his boy's crotch. Dean moaned as John's hand rubbed and tugged at his still bound cock. John swallowed the noise by turning Dean's face to him and covering his mouth with a bruising kiss. John kept his mouth pressed to his son's as his hands moved over Dean's thighs, washing the evidence of John's ownership from them. He then cleaned the hot, red globes of Dean's ass, sliding his hands between Dean's cheeks to clean around the protruding plug. He usually made Dean wash him after, but he wanted to get the boy to his brother. He washed himself quickly then dried Dean first and sent him off with a hard slap on the ass and an order to go see to his brother. John dried himself leisurely then put on some clean clothes. He wanted to go watch the boys, but figured he'd give Sam some privacy. He'd look in on them in a few minutes.
Sam looked up as the door opened and Dean limped slowly through it. Dean's eyes went immediately to Sam and he walked to the bed, dropping to his knees in front of Sam and reaching for his fly. Sam watched Dean carefully as his brother carefully eased down Sam's pants and pulled out his cock. Dean was trembling and as he pressed a kiss to the tip of Sam's cock Sam felt him flinch slightly. Dean opened his lips and prepared to take Sam in, too tired and hurt for any sort of foreplay. Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, holding him in place.
Dean raised dull eyes to meet his brother's. "Sorry, Sam. Want me to play with it first?"
"No, no Dean it's o.k. Come up on the bed with me."
"Want me to blow you up there?"
"Just get up here, Dean." Sam's exasperated tone had Dean climbing up to join his brother on the bed. Sam slithered further back and pulled his shirt off. Then he wiggled his jeans further down his hips and lay down on his back. "Come up here and lay down beside me."
"Don't want me to suck your cock?" Dean sounded confused and Sam couldn't really blame him. The only time Sam ever went for a handjob was when Dad was already using Dean's mouth.
"More in the mood for a nice slow hand job. You're practically falling over and your throat must be killing you."
"Doesn't matter how I feel, Sam. If you want my mouth, you get my mouth."
Sam's hand ran gently through Dean's hair. "It matters to me Dean. I don't want you to hurt any more than you already do. Now, please. Just lay down here and jerk me off."
Dean sighed and settled next to his brother. There was that please again. He positioned himself carefully on his side, trying to avoid putting any pressure on his painful back or front. Sam wrapped an arm around him and pulled him forward so he was draped along Sam's side with his head on his little brother's shoulder. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Sam's cock. Sam jerked and gasped at Dean's touch and Dean stopped immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asked in alarm.
"Nothing, really." Sam replied sheepishly. "It's just that I've needed this for a while and I dont' think I'm going to last very long."
"Sorry I made you wait, Sam."
"Jesus, Dean don't apologize. It's not like you could have gotten here until Dad was done with you. It's not your fault."
"It's always my fault." Dean whispered against Sam's neck as his hand returned to it's work. Now that he knew how close Sam was he kept his touch light and gentle to prolong his brother's pleasure. Sam's breath came in sharp gasps as Dean's hand slid and twisted around his shaft, occasionally sliding down to massage his balls. Sam didn't last long. It was only a few minutes before his hips arched up off the bed and ropes of come were shooting all over his belly. Sam moved to grab a towel from the bedside table, but Dean forestalled him by shifting his position and beginning to clean Sam off with his mouth.
"Didn't want you to do that, Dean."
"I have to Sam." Dean's voice was low and panicked. "What if he comes in and you're cleaning yourself off. I don't want any more punishment than I've already got coming."
"You're not done yet?" Sam's voice was indignant.
"Don't know." Dean's voice was shaking and Sam knew his brother was near tears. "I hope so."
The door to the room opened and Dean kept his mouth busy licking and sucking Sam clean. John watched his whore's mouth close over Sam's limp cock with a smile. "Our little comeslut taking care of you o.k., Sammy?"
"Great job like always, Dad."
"You did a great job yourself Sammy. Way to be in control. I thought you were going to come in your pants when I was striping Dean's ass for him. Don't know how you made it through watching that nice hard ride he gave my cock."
Dean showed no outward sign he'd given any notice to what his father had just said, but Sam could feel his brother's mouth start to tremble around his cock. He wanted to run his hand down Dean's side. Tell him that anything got him hard these days. It would be the truth, if not the whole truth. Tell him that he hated it when Dad hurt him, but he couldn't do anything for Dean but not hurt him himself. But he couldn't say any of that with Dad in the room. Dad would never punish him the way he punished Dean, but Sam's ass had more than a passing acquaintance with both Dad's hand and the paddle. He'd probably punish Dean more too, just because Sam tried to defend him. So he hurt Dean to spare him more pain.
"God, Dad, the way he looked when you were fucking him? I surprised myself by not coming."
John smiled at him with pride. "Growing up on me, Sammy. Gonna have to let you start doing some of the taking care of your brother. I'll give some thought to what responsibility I'm going to give you. Take your time with him. I'll keep dinner warm for you."
Sam already knew the answer, but he thought he'd try to make his earlier comment up to his brother by at least asking the question. "What about Dean?"
John snorted. "That's what? The fifth load of come he's swallowed in the last couple of hours? I think his stomach's full enough." He left the room shutting the door behind him.
Sam immediately sat up and pulled Dean's head gently off his cock. His brother's head remained down and Sam could feel wetness on his hands as he brushed Dean's cheeks. "Dean look at me. Please, Dean?"
"Why do you always say that?" Dean's voice was a rough whisper.
"Say what?'
"Please! Thank you! You always treated me like...and I thought...maybe you didn't...but you do." Dean's voice had dropped so low Sam could barely hear him by the time he'd finished speaking.
"Dean," Sam's kept his voice low and soothing as he stroked his brother's face. "Do you remember the first time you took care of me?"
Dean's mind went back to heat, back to fire and taking his baby brother and running. But he knew that wasn't what Sam was talking about. He nodded, still unable to look at Sam.
"You made me feel so good Dean. It was the first time and you put your mouth on me and you made me see stars. Then I asked you to do it again and you did. You always make me feel good Dean. That's part of your job, right? But see my teacher that year, Mrs. Semanski, was bound and determined to teach my class manners. She said we should always say please and thank you to people even if they were just doing their jobs. And she said we should especially say it when people did something for us that they didn't want to do. And I was just a kid, Dean but I could see even then that you didn't want to do this. That you only did it because Dad told you to. And when I was done and he made you put your mouth on him again I could tell you didn't want to do that either. You're not a whore, Dean. Or a slut or any of the other things he calls you. You're my brother and I love you. I didn't mean to get hard when he was hurting you, Dean. It seems like everything makes me that way lately. I hate it when he hurts you like that."
Dean thought back to when he was Sam's age and some of the creative ways John had found to get him aroused. He really couldn't blame Sam. If he was still doing it when he was twenty, well, that would be a different story.
"It's o.k Sam. It's just your age. You'll grow out of it. I did. Mostly." Dean finally looked up into his brother's face. What he saw there made him relax just a little.
Sam settled back on the bed. "Come on, Dean. Lay back down with me a while. He'll be in eventually, but until then you get a break."
Dean eased himself down into his previous position, draped against Sam. He lay his head back on his brother's shoulder and Sam's arm wrapped around his waist. Dean's hand automatically dropped to wrap around Sam's cock. It was his default position.
Sam ran his free hand through Dean's hair and down his face. "In a few years Dean, I'll be old enough to go to college. We can get out of here then. Get an apartment. I'm working on a way to get the money."
Dean turned his head into Sam's neck. "He'll never let me go, Sam. You know that."
The hopelessness in his brother's voice enraged Sam. He'd begun planning just how far he was willing to go to get Dean away from his Dad and it was pretty damned far. He didn't even know if he'd be able to wait until he was college age, but he couldn't see any way to get it done before hand.
"He will, Dean. You'll see."
"We'll get away? Get an apartment somewhere?"
"That's the plan, Dean."
"That'll be nice, Sammy." Dean's voice was getting softer and softer as his exhausted body drifted off to sleep, thinking happy thoughts. An apartment with just Sam. Friends. A real job. One that would require he wear clothes.
Sam felt his brother's relaxed breaths against his neck and smiled. Dean didn't believe him yet, but they would get away. An apartment for just the two of them. Dean would be much happier when he was just Sam's. He could do everything he did here and Sam wouldn't punish him for stupid things like not having the dishes done. Sam closed his eyes and the image of the strap connecting with Dean's ass filled his vision. His cock began to fill again in Dean's hand. Well maybe he would sometimes. He pulled Dean closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. But he'd always, always take care of him after.