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"Yes."

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“Please, Lucifer,” he begs. He’s not sure what he’s begging for yet, but it’s always a good idea to start early because both archangels love to hear it and besides, sometimes he needs things like comfort and reassurance and Lucifer will guess at what he needs and maybe even give it to him. “P-please.” He drowns in the smile that Lucifer gives him, because right now Lucifer is safe and home and love and Gabriel is bad and fire and pain. He wants a hug, he decides. Lucifer will give him what he needs, eventually, or at least comfort him and piece him back together a little once they’re done breaking him for the day.

 

Lucifer purses his lips, and a shot of cold terror bolts down his spine because now Lucifer is mad, too; I made him angry and now they’ll both hurt me and they’ll leave me broken at the end of it. “None of that now; call me Luci,” the devil offers, and Sam’s heart rate goes up even more because there’s no way this isn’t a trick. They give him the same offer every once in a while and every time he accepts Gabriel will throw him to the floor and demand he show his brother some respect and every time he refuses, the younger archangel will slap him hard and say that Lucifer’s orders should be what he lives for.

 

He shakes his head mutely, and a hand tangles in his hair and pulls so hard it almost drags him off Lucifer’s lap, and he starts to panic because Lucifer’s lap is safe, he can’t hurt me while I’m with Lucifer. “How dare you? Do you have any concept how lucky you are that we even bother to keep you alive?” Gabriel shouts. He shakes his head. “Maybe we shouldn’t even bother to play with you today. Maybe we should just leave you in the corner to rot for a while.”

 

“No!” Sam starts to sob. “Please, please don’t leave me!” The only thing worse than being tortured by Gabriel and Lucifer is not being tortured by them. Without them, the Cage is dark and freezing and covered in a writhing mass of rotten blood and decaying body parts as well as centipedes and rats and filthy three-legged creatures that try to eat him at night. At least with Gabriel and Lucifer, he’s warm and it’s light and the vermin can’t get to him. He also has a chance of eating as a reward if he’s very good, even though he almost never is. They long since figured out that keeping him in a constant state of near-starvation was one of the best ways to get him to behave because hunger was an arbitrary human concept that they’d recreated and enhanced and sharpened to the point of breath-taking, mind-altering agony down here.

 

“Shh,” Lucifer soothes. “We’re not going to leave you. Not today. I promise. We have something fun planned for today. You’re going to enjoy it. Now, here, eat up.” Lucifer passes a chocolate pastry under his nose and he whimpers because he knows it’s a trick, knows that they never give him anything to eat just like that unless it’s filled with tiny razorblades or will give him food poisoning or make him hallucinate, but he’s too hungry to refuse, and besides, Lucifer had promised he’d enjoy whatever it was they were going to do today and that generally meant it wouldn’t be unbearably painful. He gently takes the treat from Lucifer’s hands as is relieved for find that for once, there aren’t any sharp things hidden within. He doesn’t dare ask for more even though he so desperately wants to, because being greedy is a punishable offence and it hurts a little bit less than it had before he’d eaten so he’s grateful.

 

“Here, have another,” Lucifer offers. Sam starts to cry, because he wants it so bad but it never means anything good whenever they’re nice to him like this. Lucifer bounces him a little and he starts to cry harder because all he wants is for Lucifer to wrap him in his arms and promise to protect him from Gabriel and keep him safe and warm and give him the illusion of feeling loved. “Come on, eat up,” Lucifer urges. “Nothing nasty in here, and you know I’d never lie to you, right, Sam?”

 

Sam nods and tentatively nibbles on the chocolate stick. “Thank you, Lucifer,” he whispers.

 

Lucifer gifts him with another beautiful smile and Sam melts. “Anything for my Sammy.” Sam just sniffles and curls up on his lap. “Would you like to know what we’re going to do today?”

 

Sam thinks for a moment before nodding.

 

“We’re going to fill you up,” Gabriel explains. “Get that bladder of yours nice and bursting. Gonna make you beg for it, Sam. Gonna get you all nice and desperate and then we’re gonna keep you there for hours.”

 

Sam whimpers. “Please,” he begs. He knows it’s useless, but he can’t stop himself. Begging is the only thing he has left.

 

Lucifer presses a gentle kiss atop his forehead. “You have to go already?” He asks kindly. “Don’t worry; I won’t let Gabe be too mean to you. You know I love you.”

 

Sam keens as the feeling of needing to go right now, oh God, right now, please hits him all at once. It’s completely overwhelming and it’s painful and he just wants it to stop. “No, no, please! Please let me go! Please, I’ll do anything!”

 

Gabriel cackles behind him. “You feel that? Quite a clever formula, if I do say so myself.”

 

Sam starts to squirm. It’s too much, he’s too full, too needy, too desperate. He sobs as the full feeling takes up residence in his very core, pushing him apart from the inside out and tearing into him with tiny little pangs of need, driving a wedge into his soul and splitting him in two. “Please!” He tries to throw a hand in his lap to hold himself and hopefully relieve some of the unbearable pressure, but Lucifer just takes his hands and smiles that knowing smile of his.

 

“Not yet, Sam. Hold it for me. You can do that, right?”

 

Sam shakes his head desperate. “I can’t, I can’t, please let me go, please!”

 

“There is nowhere to go,” Lucifer says reasonably.

 

Sam shakes his head. He doesn’t care anymore; he just wants to let go. “Please, please, Lucifer, Gabriel, please, I’ll do anything, I swear; anything you want!”

 

“You beg so fucking pretty,” Gabriel comments as he wraps one long finger around a lock of Sam’s hair and pulls it out.

 

Sam lets out an undignified yelp and starts to sob as his control slips for one beautiful, horrible moment. It feels so good to let go, to feel some of that pressure ease up, to let even that tiny amount out so that it’s no longer inside him, crashing around like a tsunami and straining against the walls of his bladder and making him tremble with need. It’s horrible, though, because all he wants to do is relax his aching muscles and let go and now that he’s gotten a taste of relief, all he wants is more of the same.

 

“Did you just leak on my brother’s lap?” Gabriel growls.

 

Sam closes his eyes in defeat. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” His control lapses once again and he tries to keep it in, tries to be good for Lucifer and Gabriel, tries so hard to obey, but he just can’t get his bladder to cooperate. He starts to flood his jeans, soaking Lucifer’s in the process, and he starts to weep as a puddle forms on the floor because he’s still going and he still doesn’t feel any better.

 

Gabriel lifts him off the sanctuary of Lucifer’s lap, and Sam doesn’t even protest because he’s so confused. All he needs is to go, but he is going and he isn’t feeling any better. He squirms frantically on Gabriel’s lap, much to the angel’s delight. “You didn’t think we were gonna let you have any relief from letting go without our permission, did you?” The archangel shakes his head and presses down on the firm swell of Sam’s bladder. “Nope. We’re gonna keep you desperate, just like this. Forever. Now be a good boy and stop making a mess. Or else.”

 

Sam keens as he clenches his bladder closed and stops the flow. Somehow, it makes everything a thousand times worse. He wails. “No, no please! Please let me go! Please, please, please!” He knows he’s not quite coherent right now, but that doesn’t matter because he has to go so, so, so badly and they’re going to keep him like this for an eternity and there’s no way he can handle that, no way he can stand feeling like this even for another second.

 

Lucifer presses his body against Sam’s, letting him feel the heavy weight of the devil’s cock against the cleft of his ass. “If you don’t like it, Sam, why are you all hard?” Lucifer wraps a loose hand around Sam’s length and tugs gently.

 

“P-please,” Sam whines, begging for an entirely different reason now.

 

Gabriel grins, wide and feral against the curve of his shoulder. “How cute. Poor Sam thinks we’re gonna let him come. How long has it been? Seven, maybe eight, thousand years? You’d think he’d have gotten the hint by now.”

 

Lucifer licks a long stripe up his neck. “If you let us fuck you we might give you a reward,” he offers. “What do you say?”

 

“Yes,” Sam breathes. They all know he doesn’t mean it, but ‘yes’ is Lucifer’s favorite word and ‘no’ is not an acceptable answer to anything. “Yes,” is all he can say at times like this, when they demand to be allowed entry into his most intimate places. “Yes,” is the word he uses when they ask for his soul and he agrees to hand it over on a silver platter. “Yes,” is his anthem, his plea, his everything. “Yes,” is the one word he’ll regret for the rest of time.

 

Gabriel’s eyes go dark and his smile teeters just on the edge of too sharp before falling over with a wild cry of “Good enough,” just before he slams home dry and rough and hateful and everything Sam has grown to love.