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Cas starts to squirm in Dean’s lap. He’s hard from watching Sam all morning and he’s already half-full from the glass of juice he’d had at breakfast. He whines as Dean presses another water bottle to his lips, but he obediently takes a sip anyway. “I already need to go,” he complains.
Dean frowns. “We just started playing though, pet. You can’t possibly be full already. Maybe we need to retrain your bladder again. Remember that week, Cas? When I only let you go three times a day and made you drink more than your poor little bladder could handle? Do you remember how many times you wet yourself? Or that night I made you go to bed desperate and you just flew apart? Hmm? Do you think we need to do that again?”
Cas shakes his head. “No, Master.”
Dean smiles at his pet. “Yeah? You gonna be a good boy and hold it for me?”
Cas nods. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
“You do that, Cas.”
***
An hour later, Cas is struggling not to beg. “May I use the bathroom now?” He asks, bouncing his knee up and down.
Dean rubs one hand over the slight bulge of his bladder. “How bad do you need it? Scale of one to ten.”
“Eight,” Cas moans. “Master...”
Dean shakes his head. “I’m going to have to retrain you after this, Cas. I like needy pets just as much as the next demon, but this is ridiculous.”
Cas hangs his head. “I’m sorry, Master. I’ll try harder.”
Dean presses a kiss to his temple. “Just hold it a few more hours, baby. Then I’ll let you go.”
Cas whimpers.
***
A half an hour later, Cas is on the verge of having an accident. “M-Master, I can’t hold it any more,” he hiccups.
Dean sighs and pushes him away. “You’re going to wet yourself if I don’t let you go soon, aren’t you?” He asks.
Cas blushes and looks away. “P-probably.”
Dean hums thoughtfully. “Maybe you just need the right incentive. Go sit in Sammy’s lap.”
Castiel’s heart drops. “W-what?”
“You heard me, baby. You’re going to go sit in Sam’s lap and you’re going to hold it because if you don’t, he’s going to think you’re disgusting and he won’t love you anymore.”
“Cas, that’s n-” Sam starts to say before Dean takes away his voice.
Castiel’s heart starts to pound. There’s no way he can hold it for much longer, and he’s going to make a mess all over Sam and then no one will love him. He starts to cry as Dean picks him up and deposits him on Sam’s lap. “Please, please, Master, please!” He tries to climb off, but Dean just handcuffs him to Sam and sits back to watch him squirm.
“Hold it, Cas. Or else Sam is gonna hate you for the rest of your life and then who will hold you when you cry or rock you to sleep at night or sing you little lullabies when you have a nightmare or play horsies with you?”
Cas chokes on a breath of air and starts to hyperventilate. He tries to speak but he can’t, tries to get away but only succeeds in pulling Sam – Sam who hates him now, Sam who won’t comfort him or play with him ever again – closer. He starts to sob as he feels himself losing control. He trembles as a warm wetness spreads across his lap. He starts to sweat and he feels as if he’s about to be sick. It’s too, too, too much and he can’t take it, he can’t, can’t lose Sam, can’t stop himself from falling apart, can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t do anything but shake and sob and silently beg Dean to make it stop.
He feels himself being pulled off of Sam’s lap and realizes with a jolt of shame that he’s still going. Disgusting, he thinks. Despicable. Detestable. He whimpers. It doesn’t matter, he thinks. I’m dying anyway. I’ll die without Sam.
“Shh, Cas, look at me. You’re having a panic attack,” Dean says. “Shh, just focus on my voice,” Dean says.
Cas shakes his head. “I’m dying,” he mumbles.
Dean runs a gentle hand through his hair. “No, Cas. You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re not in any danger right now. Just take some deep breaths, okay?”
Cas whimpers. It’s hard to panic when Dean’s voice is so comforting and so soothing, then he remembers why he’s crying. “Sam,” he whispers. “Sam doesn’t love me anymore. You said so. S-said he’d think I was disgusting if I...” He buries his face in his hands and weeps.
“I don’t, Cas,” Sam says. “I love you and I don’t think you’re gross. I promise. I’ll still do all of those things I know you like and I’ll... Please let me hold him.”
Cas feels himself being passed over to Sam and cries harder. “You don’t love me anymore!” He wails.
Sam runs gentle hands down his side. “I do, Cas. I love you so, so much and nothing, nothing, could change that. I promise.”
Cas nods and lets himself relax against Sam. He doesn’t really believe him, but as long as the other is still willing to hold him he’ll be content. He feels Dean’s hand against his back and he shivers.
“Why don’t we get you and Sammy cleaned up, okay? Then I’ll let you wear some pajamas and I’ll take out your little stuffed horse toys and Sam will play with you. Would you like that, Cas?”
Cas shakes his head. “Sam won’t play. Hates me,” he mutters.
Sam pulls him closer. “I’ll play with you, Cas, and I do love you. I’ll even play that game you wanted to play last night in the tub,” he offers.
Cas bites his lip. “I thought that you said it was silly.”
“I don’t care, as long as it makes you happy.” He presses his lips against Castiel’s forehead.
Cas sniffles. “Will you carry me?” He pouts up at Sam and Sam gives him a watery smile.
“Sure, Cas. I’ll do whatever you need.”