
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7233790.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Balloon_kink, Dirty_Talk, Underage_Masturbation
  Series:
      Part 3 of Kink_Meme_Fills
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-18 Words: 2254
****** Latex ******
by babybrotherdean
Summary
     Like most kinks, Sam discovers his by accident.
Notes
     Remember that one time I wrote balloon kink? Now it's two times.
     SPN_kink_meme_prompt:
     Just saw this on an episode of "Strange Sex" on Discovery Life! Sam
     discovers at the age of 15 that he has a balloon fetish. He enjoys
     lubing up his cock and rubbing off against the latex of an inflated
     balloon. He always times it so that he ejaculates just as he pushes
     down hard enough for it to pop. It gets to a point where just the
     sound of a popping balloon can make him come.
      
     He's horrified when Dean (they have an established relationship)
     walks in on him, but Dean is so sweet and understanding and even
     indulges Sam's fetish.
See the end of the work for more notes
Like most kinks, Sam discovers his by accident.
His fifteenth birthday is special because Dean surprises him with an actual
party- Dean always tries to surprise him when another year ticks by, but it’s
not often they have the money to celebrate- complete with a cake, a couple
presents, and even balloons. It’s one of the best days he’s ever had, and
Dean’s more affectionate than usual, like the extra year he’s been alive makes
it easier on Dean’s conscious to touch his little brother. The cake goes
quickly, the presents- a couple books he’s been lusting after and a bracelet
that he never intends to take off- join his precious few personal possessions
in his duffle bag, and the balloons-
Well, at first, Sam’s not sure what to do with the balloons. All things
considered, they’re not very practical to keep around, not doing much more than
brightening the dreary motel room and taking up space, but he can’t bring
himself to pop them, either. When Dean’s out and their dad hasn’t gotten back
from his hunt and he’s left alone in the room, he can’t take his eyes off them,
scattered in the corner of the room along with his bag.
The whole train of thought that leads him to picking up a bright green balloon
and the lube Dean hides in his bag is a little shaky, but by the time his pants
are down around his knees and he’s sitting back against the headboard with the
balloon between his legs, it doesn’t seem to matter a whole lot.
Even with the lube he’s applied, the latex gives him just enough friction to
feel good, and though his initial movements are tentative and unsure, once he
gets a feel for it- lifts his hips while he presses the balloon down against
his cock, grinds into its soft, rubbery give- it comes naturally, a constant
thrusting motion that’s got his head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut as the
pleasure grows tight and hot in his stomach.
It’s entirely different from just using his hand; the balloon gives him a whole
new kind of sensation, the slip-slide of the lube that contrasts with the drag
of the latex, the rubbery squeaking sounds just spurring him on as his
movements grow more desperate. His cock presses into the soft surface and makes
itself a trench along which to slide, and before he knows it, he’s close,
chasing after his orgasm with gasping breath and tightening grip on the sides
of the balloon.
Sam nearly has a heart attack when the thing pops, the pressure between his
hands and his cock too much for it to take, but he’s coming, suddenly, too-
reaching his orgasm in a flash of pleasure that the sudden burst of energy
shoots into him, and he cries out, arches up as he seeks out its surface again,
even though it’s been reduced to a scrap of coloured latex resting on his
stomach.
He fumbles to take his cock into his hand instead, works himself through the
orgasm and just- just thinks. Just thinks about how strange it felt, how good
it was despite that. Finally manages to catch his breath and turns his head to
look at the few balloons that remain intact and swallows hard.
More than anything else, Sam’s careful to clean up. Dean doesn’t question the
balloon scraps in the garbage after his birthday, and Sam manages to make it
through the rest of them before it’s time to pack up and go. It feels dirty,
hiding something like this from his brother- his brother, his boyfriend; he’s
never sure how to classify their relationship, really- but he’s enough of a
freak as it is without letting Dean know that he gets off rubbing himself off
against balloons. It gets harder to get away with, too, as time goes on-
balloons, in their lives, are something of a luxury, and the times at which he
can find himself a couple are few and far between. It’s one thing to buy a bag
of them at the dollar store, but another entirely to keep them from Dean, and
ends with him trying to establish some more boundaries between them. Though
Dean seems a little off-put by Sam’s sudden insistence not to dig through his
bag, he doesn’t protest, and Sam rests a little easier knowing his secret is
safe.
What does prove to cause some trouble is the way it starts to escalate. The
more often he uses the balloons, the more sensitive he seems to become. He
doesn’t even realize that the popping almost always triggers his orgasm until
he comes completely untouched- some stupid school project, a science
experiment. Someone pops a balloon across the room and Sam’s left to rush to
the bathroom, cheeks red and boxers soiled. Thankfully, it’s not a situation he
encounters too often; there’s no good explanation for what gets him going about
the sound of a balloon popping, but he figures it’s Pavlovian; he's trained
himself to associate balloons popping with pleasure, and- well, it had to have
some kind of downside, right? He lives with it.
Or at least, he lives with it right up until he gets caught.
Dean’s supposed to be working late, picking up a few hours at the local auto
shop for some spending money. Sam’s sixteen and he feels terrible that he isn’t
doing more to help, but Dean’s got this way of talking and smiling and stroking
his hair out of his eyes that convinces him he should focus on school. Dean’s
good at convincing him of all sorts of things like that, and by the time he
steps away, Sam’s usually too love-struck to bother arguing. In any case, it
means he’s alone, and he’s still got a couple balloons in his bag, ready to
inflate and use, and he doesn’t waste any time in sealing his lips around the
mouth of the balloon and starting to fill it with air.
It’s almost like foreplay; the image that slips into his head is of Dean’s lips
pursed, plush and pink, filling up a balloon for him to use. Sam doesn’t touch
himself yet- saves that for when the balloon is prepared- but spreads his legs,
lets his eyes slip shut as his fingertips slip over the surface of the latex
while it begins to stretch and fill.
Once it’s properly full, Sam takes the time to slide his pants and underwear
down and off his hips, closes his eyes and breathes out slow while he finds the
lube with his free hand. He holds the balloon between his thighs, lets the
bottom of his cock just tease against its surface while he slicks himself up,
and then he starts properly, fingertips digging little indents into it while he
moves to start his steady grind.
Sam’s not sure how much time passes, but he doesn’t hear the door unlocking
until it’s too late.
“Hey, Sammy, I- Sammy?”
His brother sounds confused, above all else, and Sam’s eyes snap open as he
scrambles to sit up properly, cheeks flushing with heat as he feels his stomach
drop. Dean’s eyes are on him, a little wide, darting between his face and- and
the balloon between his legs, and there’s no question as to exactly what he’s
doing right now. “I- I can explain.”
Dean’s lips part slightly, and he doesn’t look like he’s got any idea what to
do with himself. A moment passes, and Sam can feel his heart beating loud and
fast in his ears, but then Dean starts forward, slow and careful, doesn’t look
away.
“S’that feel good?” he asks, voice a little hushed, and- he doesn’t sound
disgusted, or even all that weirded out. Sam feels pinned under his brother’s
eyes but he nods slowly, swallows thickly. He’s still hard, and he hasn’t
loosened his grip on the balloon any, though his hands are trembling as Dean
slips up onto the edge of the bed. “Rubbin’ yourself like that?”
Sam wets his lips, and the balloon squeaks as his fingers dig into it a little
harder. If he’s not careful, he’ll blow the damn thing too early. “Yeah,” he
replies quietly, keeping his eyes on his brother. “It’s- um. It’s real good,
Dean. Like-“ He doesn’t have anything to compare it to, so he lets the
statement hang as he drops his eyes again. “S’good.”
The mattress shifts, and suddenly Dean’s right there, breathing his air, rough
fingertips brushing Sam’s bare thighs. Sam can’t help the way he shivers, the
way he tries to spread his legs like the learned habit it’s become. “Never told
me you liked this,” he murmurs, and when he touches the balloon, Sam has to
bite down hard on his lip to stop the whimper that wants to slip free.
“Balloons, huh?”
It’s all Sam can do to nod, breathing a little quicker now as Dean’s fingers
inch towards his cock. He can see the way his brother’s pants are tented, and-
and is Dean getting off on this, too? “Balloons,” he whispers back, feels the
blush in his cheeks all over again. “I’m- I’m sorry, I should’ve-“
“S’okay.” An absent kiss brushed against the curve of his neck, and Sam
settles, takes a deep breath. Dean’s fingertips brush the head of his cock and
Sam’s hips cant upwards of their own accord. Dean pulls his hand away, though,
and- and he’s holding the balloon instead, now, his one hand spanning one side
of its surface, bigger than Sam’s slimmer ones. The sight is more arousing than
it has any right to be and Sam can’t look away. “Can I?”
There’s no hesitation this time as Sam nods, almost desperate, and he lets Dean
take control. His brother holds the balloon for him, tight between his legs,
pressing down against his weeping cock, and with a small nod of approval, he
starts moving again, just like usual. It’s different now, though, with the heat
of Dean’s eyes on his body, the freedom to grip at the bed sheets with his
hands for some kind of anchor. Dean’s a little rougher than he is, grinds the
balloon back against him without mercy, and Sam loses himself in the heavy,
erotic nature of it all, the primal desperation that floods him as he chases
after his own pleasure.
“You like that?” And then there’s Dean’s voice, low and rough the way he gets
when they’re together like this. It’s a tone reserved for him and it has Sam
letting out a soft whine, fingers scrabbling against the bed for some kind of
grip. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”
And he is- faster than usual, thanks to Dean’s presence. Sam can’t keep his
eyes open, can’t even think straight, nearly chokes on his own tongue trying to
speak. “The- the balloon, you gotta- press harder, make it- make it-”
Dean’s always been good at understanding him when they’re in the thick of it
together, and this is no different. “You want me to pop it?” he murmurs, all
the while pressing down harder so Sam’s got more of a surface to thrust
against. “Gonna come for me if I do?”
Sam just nods, quick and desperate, barely manages to gasp out the “please,
Dean,” around his heavy breaths. His brother laughs, low and hot, and then he’s
pressing harder, harder-
It goes without warning, just like always, and Sam doesn’t bother to hold back
his choked-out cry as he comes, and it’s Dean’s hands that find his cock this
time to milk it out of him, tears beading in the corners of his eyes with the
intensity of it all. He loses track of time as his brother talks him through
it, murmurs praise soft in his ears while every bit of pleasure is wrung out of
him. Soon he’s slumped back against the pillows, eyes half-open, panting
through parted lips while he tries to gather himself once more.
Dean carefully gathers the bits of broken latex and sets them aside before
settling beside Sam in bed, pulling him close like they always do after getting
each other off. Sam notes, distantly, that Dean still seems to be half-hard,
but Dean doesn’t mention it and Sam’s too tired to ask. Figures he can give his
brother a handjob later to make up for it. “Hey.”
“Hi.” A smile in Dean’s voice and a kiss pressed to the top of his head and
suddenly he’s just Dean again, the heat and intensity slipping away now that
Sam’s all done. Still needs to be cleaned up, but it can wait. “So, uh-
balloons?”
And then he’s blushing all over again, ducks his head to hide against Dean’s
chest. “Too weird?”
A shrug. “S’different. But- I mean, hey, gets you off, right? You’re into it,
so…” He trails off, sounds thoughtful. “How long?”
“’Bout a year.”
He can almost hear the gears turning in Dean’s head, and can’t help but smile
when his brother laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sam snuggles against Dean’s chest and closes his eyes, feels like a weight’s
been lifted off him. One fewer secret to keep from the most important person in
his life. “Thanks, Dean.”
Dean’s arms wrap around him, warm and secure, and Sam feels like he’s entirely
at home. “You got it, Sammy.”
Things aren’t always this easy, but it’s nice to get a break every now and
then.
End Notes
     I'm creating a niche for myself, and this is it.
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