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Sam's eyes snapped open and he looked around desperately. He tried to sit up, but found he was strapped down to his bed. He panted in confusion, brows furrowed as he struggled in his bonds. After a few minutes of fruitless struggling, Sam gave up and lay back, looking around at his body. He was fully clothed, that was good. These ropes were tight, though. He experimentally pulled on his arms a few more times before he just stopped. He looked over to the bedroom door as it opened and a bright light seeped through. Sam's throat worked as he tried to keep calm, and it was pretty much working, but he still had the look of nervousness etched across his face. Two familiar people walked into the room, one clad in a trench coat, and the other sporting denim.
"D-Dean? Cas?" Sam struggled again, "Come on, get me outta here! Something's in the bunker! You gotta--"
"Nothing's in the bunker, Sam," Castiel interrupted, "Just us three. I promise."
Dean closed the door behind them ominously, making Sam shiver.
"Then...what's going on? Why am I tied down?"
"You haven't noticed it, Sam?" Dean asked seriously. He sat down next to Sam, staring him dead in the eye.
Sam looked confused, "Noticed what?"
"The way you've been acting. So-So depressed and...and obsessed over finding this demon."
Castiel watched the brothers converse, standing on the end of the bed and keeping a hand on the toe of Sam's boot.
"What? No I--"
"Don't try to deny it, Sam, I see it, too," Castiel added, "You're stressed. And we don't like it one bit."
Sam flushed gently and he looked away, "Guys... I just... I wanna find this demon. Alright? I'm into this job."
"No, I know what it's like to be 'into a job.' This isn't as innocent as that, Sam. This is obsession," Dean explained sternly, "It's not healthy. And we're gonna knock some sense into ya."
Sam furrowed his brow, "Knock some sense into me? What the hell does that mean?"
"You'll find out." Dean stood and he pulled Sam's t-shirt up and behind his head, leaving his whole abdomen exposed.
Sam's eyes widened, "Dean...?"
Neither of them responded as Castiel slowly untied and slid off Sam's boots.
"Cas! Guys, what are you--" He jumped when Castiel slid a finger up Sam's socked foot. He squirmed roughly, "Ohoho no... Don't you dare, you two! I'll get you back so hard!"
Dean chuckled, "You're starting to sound like me, Sammy." He skittered fingers along Sam's belly, and his little brother's breath hitched.
Sam chewed on his bottom lip, trying to keep the bubbling laughter inside. He arched his back and sucked in his belly, "S-Stop..."
"Stop? Wehe just started, Sammy," Dean smirked, "Come on. Laugh. You know you want to."
"No, I d-don't..." Sam growled.
Castiel had to chuckle at how stubborn Sam was being. He ripped the hunter's socks off and pulled his long toes back. He felt Sam tense and he knew he had him. He dug under Sam's toes and the Winchester jumped and screamed with laughter.
"NAHAHAHA!! CAHAHAHAS, NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!"
Dean looked at what Castiel was doing and he beamed, "Nihice, Cas!" He trailed his fingers to Sam's sides, then up his ribs. Finally, his tickling fingers landed in Sam's ultra sensitive hollows.
Sam arched his back and shrieked with hard belly laughter, "NOHOHOHO!! D-DEHEHEHEAN, STAHAHAHAP! CAHAHAHAS! PLEHEHEHEASE!"
Dean smirked and he drilled his thumbs into the hollows while skittering his finger tips along the outsides of his armpits. He knew he and Cas were turning Sam into a puddle of laughter, but if that puddle had an emotion, he knew it was happy. Sam loved being tickled, ever since he was a little kid. It was an escape for the both of them. Of course, Dean would never admit that he liked being tickled, but he did. Whilst digging into one armpit, the older hunter reached back and kneaded Sam's knee caps.
Sam laughed even harder, shrieks mingling with his laughter, "DEHEHEHEEEEEAN! IHIHIHI'M GONNA KIHIHIHILL YOHOHOHOU!!"
"You're gonna have to catch me first, Sammy," Dean jided, "And you can't do much chasin' while you're tied down, can ya?"
"FUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOHOU!"
"How rude, Sam," Castiel sighed in mock disappointment, "I think we need to teach you a few manners."
Dean stopped, as well as Cas, to give Sam a break. Sam panted heavily, closing his eyes and resting his head on the pillow, "Please...Stohohop... Ihihi'm behegging yohou..."
"Cute, Sam, real cute," Dean licked his full lips, "But we both know that you love this."
"What?"
"Don't try to deny it. Ever since we were kids, you've loved this. The feeling of fingers all over your tickle spots. The teasing words. The anticipation of when I'm gonna start and the dread of if I'm gonna continue after a break. You love it all. Admit it," Dean shrugged, "And maybe we'll let you go."
"You'll let me go?" Sam asked.
"We'll let you go," Dean repeated.
Sam thought about it for a few minutes before he nodded, "O-Okay... Okay, fine. I love being tickled. Happy?"
"Very," Dean grinned.
"Okay. Good. Now let me go."
"But, Sammy," Dean circled Sam's belly button, "Why would you want us to stop if you love this so much?"
Sam's eyes widened and he jerked, "Dehean!! You said you'd let me go!"
"Technically, I said 'maybe,'" Dean smirked.
Sam growled, "You jerk!"
"Ticklish bitch. Now, why don't we have some more fun, eh?" Dean grinned and dug into Sam's tummy.
Castiel started again on Sam's feet, and the hunter shrieked with more laughter. He wondered if it would ever stop. Then again, did he want it to stop? Was what Dean made him say true? It was a possibility. Sam had to admit that tickling was full of laughter, laughter equalled happiness, and happiness was not something they got a lot of. Maybe this wasn't so bad. He decided he wasn't going to beg or plead anymore. Hell, he wouldn't even struggle. He would just lay there and enjoy this bonding time with his big brother and best friend.
The end