Part 4

[soncnica]

PART 4 (NSFW ART HERE!)

Sam's words were a cool breath on his overheated skin, on his come and spit and sweat covered skin and he trembled all over. His whole body was drenched, leaking … except not where he wanted it the most. He had to go take a piss so badly, he'd probably rival any race horse in a pissing contest.

Sam's touches were becoming too much, his whole chest and thighs were oversensitive, just one more light caress and he'd have no choice but to scream. He never knew, never even thought how simple touching, simple caresses could make his whole body thrum, vibrate with such need it was … it was like he was lying on magic fingers. That's how it felt; he was shaking all over, even if the mattress underneath him was still.

"Sam…" he whined and squeezed Sam's fingers that found their way back to his in a very tight grip. He was way past feeling embarrassed, humiliated, mortified, way past feeling awkward, way past feeling anything else but how strangely his bladder settled down with just some pins and needles, from time to time. He didn't even feel much, just this numbness there, as if the nerves and muscles just settled for this position and gave it a rest. He knew his bladder was full, he could damn well see how obscenely it was bulging out of his stomach, fucking hell, he could barely see his dick, and he needed to piss. So badly, so so so bad.

"Okay, Dean … Dean, hey man look at me. Look at me, right here, hey."

He had trouble focusing on Sam, could see him sure, in all his naked glory, with cut abs and hips and those pecs, nipples hard peaks and his cock laying on those muscular thighs, but he couldn't really … focus. He couldn't stop blinking and quite get the moisture out of his eyes.

But he tried. He did.

His breathing was sharp and ragged; wheezing to the point of seeing tiny black spots in the corner of his eyes. Sam had done this to him, Sam had touched him and looked at him and filled him up to the point of fuckin' breaking at the seams. He was tearing up, cracking and spilling and Sam did this to him.

Oh God, Sam had cuddled him to death.

He'd laugh at that, if his lips and tongue weren't feeling numb or if his brain even knew what laughing was anymore. He was limp and flyin' high and all he needed were Sam's hands back on his body. He needed those fingers to never stop touching him, never let him go.

"Okay, listen, we're gonna go to the bathroom, all right? 'm gonna help you, just lean on me, 'm gonna help, all right?"

He didn't want to get up, didn't want to shift anything inside of him, especially not all that liquid filling him up. He shook his head no and then barely stopped himself from slapping his own face. You don't say no to Sam. What the fuck?

"'s okay, Dean. Punishment's over, you can talk. Say no, say yes, tell me to fuck off, it's fine, but we have to go to the bathroom."

"Can't … can't get up," he shook his head, "I can't Sam."

He couldn't get up, he could feel all the water in his bladder, or what the fuck ever Sam had filled him with, up in his throat. He couldn't get up, he'd burst.

"Dean, you will. It's just three steps, all right?"

Of course it was only three steps, but three steps too many.

"Sam…"

"Come on, straighten your legs," he felt Sam's strong, broad palms grip – touch, oh yessss touch - his calves and pull. The muscles protested and he hissed at a cramp he could feel starting to form, but Sam was there. Sam was always there, massaging his calves and his thighs, chasing away any and all cramps that wanted to develop. Touching. Touching and making him fall again.

"Good, 's good, now let's get you up. I already unhooked everythin', so just slide on your side, and three steps, Dean. Just three."

Those three steps were torture, when the liquid in his bladder shifted and nearly pulled him down on the ground, but Sam was there. Sam was always there, supporting him with his right arm around his shoulders and the palm of his left gripping his hip, steadying him, so that he wouldn't face plant. That would be awkward, he'd probably send his bladder into his spine and it would explode there. Not cool.

His legs were wobbly as if he'd never walked before, so he shuffled those three steps wincing and shuddering all the while. The pressure was intense, pain on just the right side of pissnowfuckerpissfuckingdamnit, and he leaned on Sam's chest when they finally, finally made it to the toilet.

It was right there. Right in front of him, salvation and the end to all of this. He had learned his lesson, he'd never ever do it again, he would stop the car when Sam would say 'stop the car, I need to take a leak'. He would, so help him God and the Devil and the Pagan Gods and all other fucked up fuckin' things. He would.

"All right, Dean, just lean on me, 's okay. 'm right here. You listenin' to me?"

He licked his lips and leaned more on Sam, letting his little brother take all of his weight, hissing when Sam's hand came to rest directly over his throbbing bladder. It wasn't pressing in, but it wasn't a light touch either. It made him moan and rest his head on Sam's shoulder, seeking warmth and his brother. He just wanted to feel his little brother, there. He hid his face into the crook of Sam's neck, just like Sam had done before and breathed in.

Sammy …

He licked the skin there, making Sam moan, and kept on licking even if he had no more spit to slick the way. He wanted to leave a hickey there, wanted to mark Sam just like his brother marked him.

"Dean?"

"Yeah…" he breathed out and kissed Sam's shiver away.

"In or out, Dean?"

And wasn't that a loaded question. If he said in, Sam would leave the catheter in and he could piss like a horse and be done in a few minutes. But if he said out … it would burn. Burn so bad to piss, it would probably take him a few hours to get rid of all the liquid.

"'s this … 's this punishment, 'cause I didn't just … just say your name? 'cause I … I begged?"

"What do you think?"

The hand splayed across the tight, tender skin of his full bladder pressed in and Dean hissed and winced and groaned and sobbed out a silent: "Fuuuuucking bitch!" right against Sam's neck, right against the vein there. Right where Sam's life was running … where Sam was alive.

He was fucked. And he would burn.

"Out."

"'kay."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Shit. But it was too late now to change his mind, because Sam was already kneeling before him with gloves on and a syringe, deflating the balloon. Sam was multitasker extraordinaire. The little bitch of a geek. Or maybe he just lost some time there, floating on a high of having Sam there.

"Grip my shoulders, don't fall, all right?"

He placed his shaky hands on Sam's strong shoulders and leaned forward. Sam wouldn't let him fall. Not like that.

"Gonna pull out now, all right? Deep breath … let it go. That's it, 's it."

The yellow tube came out of his dick slowly, making him hiss out for as long as the tube was sliding out of his urethra.

The water or whatever – he should ask Sam, he really should - followed behind the tube a second later but he didn't have enough strength to grip his dick and aim. But Sam was there, Sam was always there and his brother's hand was steady; gentle, firm grip and he breathed out when he felt piss all but shoot out of his dick, hit the porcelain and then the water in the toilet.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhh, fuckin', fuck …"

"You good? 's good?"

Sam was behind him again, supporting all of his weight, breathing down his neck, kissing and licking his right earlobe, the side of his neck, sucking at the pulsing vein there and Dean was in heaven. He never knew that pissing could feel almost like coming. Maybe even better – well right now it felt better than coming.

"Ohhhhhhhgodohgodohhhhhhfucking feels so good…"

"You did so good, Dean. 'm so proud of you."

Dean wanted to hide from those words. He didn't do good; he begged, he broke the rules, he didn't just say his brother's name like he was supposed to. He broke an order, a straight order even a child could follow. He broke it, he broke down, he caved in to the pleasure and the pain and Sam's touch and … just Sam.

"I didn't…"

"You did. You were … you did, all right? Believe me, trust me, you did. And you learned your lesson, right? Learned it and you'll never do it again, right?"

"Yeah …"

Yeah he had. And no, he wouldn't.

"Good, so, so, so good, Dean … just let go now, okay. 'm right here, 'm not going anywhere."

Sam's hand was becoming heavy as a rock on his belly, the other one was still supporting his dick and Dean let go. Sighed and leaned back into Sam, trying hard to feel Sam's heartbeat on his back, feel Sam's breaths and words on the side of his neck and let go.

It didn't last long, not really. He pissed for as long as he could and as much as he could, but he knew that some of the – stuff - was still inside of him, still in his bladder it was just that his muscles would need to unclench some more for it all to be released. Maybe in a few more minutes, maybe in a few more hours.

"You done for now?"

He nodded and licked his lips, licked the sweat that started to bead on his upper lip.

"Okay, you wanna go back to bed?"

"Yeah…"

Three steps again and he stood by the bed, while Sam got rid of the pillows and the coat rack from which the 'water' bag was hanging from. He hadn't even noticed that, he was … first too mesmerized by the fucking tube sticking out of his dick and then by his bladder screaming at him and most of all, by his brother who quite possibly kissed, licked and ran his hands over every inch of his front. Except his cock. Sam never touched that.

His brother even came all over his thighs. He looked down and yeah, there was still some specks of come there.

"Sam…"

"What?"

"You came?"

"Man, you were … soooo … yeah, I, uh, I came."

Well, fine then.

He plopped himself on the mattress for all of two minutes - kinda sulking, really - while Sam took care of everything - taking out the trash – and then was up again and running to the bathroom just in time for the first spurt of piss not to hit the floor. He'd not be cleaning that up.

There was a slight burn, but nothing he couldn't handle so he used that and tried to squeeze out as much as he could. Which wasn't all that much, really, and he tried to hide his disappointment when he flushed the toilet and came back to bed. Right into Sam's open arms.

They were both as naked as the day they'd been born, flush skin and flaccid cocks and Dean wouldn't want it any other way. Sam's arms were strong and his body was warm and his words were whispered.

"You okay?"

"Yeah… just … ya know … still gotta piss some more."

"I know. You did good Dean, so hot squirming on the bed."

He hid his face into the dip of Sam's throat and breathed in. It was Sam. It was always Sam.

They laid there on the bed for some time, not cuddling, 'cause they didn't do that … just laid there, touching and listening to each other breathe. Listening to each other be alive.

"Son of a bitch, gotta take another leak."

He was off the bed like a shot, already aiming his dick to the toilet even if he was still three steps away from it. Thank you Sam, for moving the bed closer to the bathroom door.

He knew it would burn, but fuuuuuck, he didn't know it would burn this much.

"Shit, ohhhhh you son of a bitch ..."

"Come on…"

Sam was suddenly there, right at his back. Sam was always there at his back – always have your back, Dean – and his brother's hand was over his belly again, only this time his bladder was sort of back to its usual size, no longer bulging out.

"Sammy… son of a bitch, ugh…"

"I gotcha, 's okay, man."

His brother's hand was keeping a steady pressure on his bladder, stroking left and right, up and down, fingers sliding down to the base of his cock, just moving gently in the pubes there, scratching at the sensitive skin.

He wanted to stop the flow of piss, but his muscles weren't strong enough, no matter how much he tried clenching them. It made the flow lessen, but it didn't stop. He wanted to stop, but it seemed as if all that water was a force of nature and there was no stopping it. It wanted out, no matter how much Dean's urethra was burning.

Damn fucking catheter.

Stupid fucking punishment.

Damnit.

He gritted his teeth, leaned back on Sam's chest and cursed his way through it, digging his fingers into Sam's forearm.

"Do you wanna sit down?"

Fuck no, he wasn't a chick.

"Fuck no, 'm not a chick."

And if he'd sit down, he wouldn't be able to feel his brother have his back.

He'd been through so many things, so damn many, but this … being this naked, being this bare, doing this with his little brother supporting all of his weight, having his little brother fucking hold his dick for him to piss … it filled his heart with so much trust he stumbled and would've fallen forward and cracked his skull open on the toilet, if Sam hadn't caught him.

"Dean, whoa, 's okay … hey, man … just breathe through it, all right?"

The words were followed by a caress over his belly, fingers sometimes pushing into his navel, sending little shocks of pleasure down to his still pissing cock and making him groan.

"'s okay, 's all right. Hey, hey, hey Dean, 's okay."

"Fuckin' ahhh, burrrrrns …" he gasped because yeah, it burned. He knew pain, had his share of it in all possible variations, but there was just something about this burn that made him wanna cry and scream. It was coming from inside him, from his most private parts, from somewhere that had no right to ever hurt …

"I know, I know, I know it does."

"Fuck, nnnnnnhhhh, bitch."

Then Sam's hand was gone from his belly and his back got hit by warm air, but before he could turn around and see what his brother was doing, there were hands on his lower back, splaying over his kidneys, rubbing at the warm skin, lips and tongue all over his lower back and he whined at how good it felt. How good it shouldn't feel, because he'd been bad, broke the rules, disobeyed.

But learned his lesson anyway.

Then Sam's fingers pushed his ass cheeks apart, opening him wide for Sam's tongue.

"Ohhhh sssshit…"

That didn't burn at all.

He could feel his bladder was emptying, he could feel his muscles becoming relaxed, finally, too relaxed under Sam's probing tongue and fingers, the desperation in his veins finally coming to a stop when the last drop fell into the toilet and he sagged back into his brother.

Trusting Sam to be there carrying his weight. Sam was always there.

"Whoa, all right, you're okay, come on, let's get you back to bed and see if we can make you come. I think you deserved it."

He wasn't sure he'd be able to get it up. He wasn't sure how fucking much that would hurt – hot come shooting out of his abused urethra. But Sam was determined and had that look in his eyes.

Fuck.

He was fucked.

The End

A/N: Yes I am super aware that I just wrote 15k of something that any normal, sane person would only need 2k for. I'm sooo not all right *goes to hide in a corner* :) :) :) ahhahahha, oh man ...........

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